


Flowery Truth

by harazaki (HopelessMasquerade)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi makes a cameo in chapter 14, Amnesia, Angst, Bad English, Basketball, Books, Bullying, Childhood Memories, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Family, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Flowers, Future Fic, Gen, Hanging Out, Hospitals, Hugs, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, References to Canon, Slow To Update, everybody in kiridaii is really supportive, hanakotoba, past FuruHana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 108,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4221006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopelessMasquerade/pseuds/harazaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Near the end of June, Hanamiya Makoto, one of Japan's most well-known authors, gets involved in a sudden accident. Not only that, but he wakes up with amnesia, having forgotten most of his life and his family and acquaintances as well. As he slowly recalls the person he used to be, he starts to regret his past actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 事故 (Accident)

**Author's Note:**

> (Really) slow to update.

It had been five years since they parted ways.

No words were said -besides “good luck” and “we should meet again sometime”- at their graduation. They decided to remain silent the whole times. Of course, no tears were shed. In fact, none of them showed any emotion.

Now, they had followed many different paths, and it’s funny to see what they’ve become.

On the first place, we have Yamazaki. He was the one that couldn’t choose on what to do after graduating -and, even if he did, his grades wouldn’t allow it-, so he decided to stop studying. Of course, his parents were incredibly upset at him -his father even ranted at him, complaining on how worthless their son was-, and his brothers saw it coming. So Yamazaki ended up living on a cheap, old-looking floor -which wasn’t even 20 years old- with some friends, spending most of the day streaming videogames -and hoping that someone watched his streams-, while part-time working at a supermarket.

Then there’s Hara. His grades were average, but he decided to stop studying too. Because of his amazing drumming skills, he ended up joining a rather mediocre band -that was in need of a new drummer, as they would soon start recording new songs-, and made one of his dreams come true. His father was dissappointed at this, and his mother told him to move with his bigger brother -because God, he was 21 at the moment, and they were tired of their ‘big’ baby, plus all the drumming gave her constant headaches-. If anything, Hara was happy with himself, as he had fulfilled one of his goals.

On Seto’s case, everything was almost stablished for him. Having immaculate grades, there was no doubt he would end up at a good University -and in fact, he did, studying Economics at the University of Tokyo-. His bright mind and his impressive IQ gave him an obvious advantage above most of the students, and after finishing his first career, he decided to go for a second one -this one being Mathematical Science-. This was mostly to make his parents prouds -as if they already weren’t- and to make his big brother -who had studied 4 careers, all of them Science related- notice him, although he too wanted to be proud of himself.

He had good grades too, but instead of joining the University of Tokyo, Furuhashi chose to study cuisine at the Hattori Nutrition College. Although he would have liked to attempt a medicine-related career, he seemed to be more interested in culinary arts, as he wanted to improve his skills. Plus, Hattori was rather close to his home. He’d decided to keep living with his parents, -no matter if people around him laughed at him because of that- and wanted to watch over his younger sister’s education.

And last but not least, Hanamiya. He had the potential to apt for some of the most prestigious Universities, but wasn’t really interested in them. In fact, by the age of 20 he had published a novel -which he began writing due to boredom, but his mother thought it was good and showed it to a well-known publisher-, and had decided that novelry was probably a good way to spend time -and, even though he started as a hobby, it seemed to be a good way to maintain himself and his mother-. Some people claimed that he was wasting his potential, but Hanamiya felt like he made the right choice.

···

Having recently turned 24, he’d published his second novel -a dark-themed one, with an unique storytelling and a confusing plot, that he began writing two years ago- and was on his way to a convention. As much as he disliked being surrounded by people -it was something about him that didn’t seem to change-, there was no way he could refuse.

The city’s rotten scent, mixed with a damp feeling, as if a storm was about to discharge. Summer’s warm, cheerful atmosphere didn’t help either, as Hanamiya never liked summer at all. It was such a slow, tiresome season, and lucky was the day there was a summer storm. And there wasn’t anything truly interesting about it, except the fact that it felt like as he had more free time than usual. When he didn’t.

He’d decided to go by feet, as the place was rather close to his home and he’d spent some time without going out for a walk. The birds’ chirps, along that morning’s bright, graceful azure sky gave off a charming feeling, and the temperature was almost perfect. He looked at the sky and took a deep breath.

 _Well_ , he told himself,  _guess I’ll talk a bit about the book and then come back_.

It would take him even more time than he expected, actually. Said convention barely lasted from 11:20 to 12:00, but if he made a mistake, he’d have to stay for much longer than he wanted to. So Hanamiya had simply decided to talk about his latest novel and probably ask some questions if he felt like doing so. He wasn’t that much of signing autographs and taking photos with his supposed fans -and boy he hated that word- and wanted to spend as few time as possible.

···

Once he made it to said place, it shocked him to see such a good amount of people surrounding said area. He felt rather uncomfortable as he still wasn’t used at all to huge groups of people.  _But if it wasn’t for these idiots I wouldn’t be here, hey_. 

Half-grinning, he waved at the people that, excited, had gathered around and were waiting for him. He didn’t even bother to look at them as he wanted to make it to the building as soon as possible, and along him, some people followed.

“ _Makoto-san! Your writings are amazing, here!_ ”

“ _M-May I ask for a photo with you if possible?_ ”

“ _You’re so perfect!_ ”

“ _Do you have any advice for a newbie?_ ”

Hanamiya gave them a cold, tiny smile, and kept ignoring the amount of people trying to reach for him as he made his way to the room the convention was being hosted.

Before sitting, he took an hairtie from his pocket and made himself a small ponytail, all of this while trying to avoid the multiple cameras and phones that were pointing at him.

He hated fame. Hated being chased by people on the street asking for an autograph and hated all the cameras and paparazzi that suffocated him. He was alright with his novels being almost best-sellers, but hated how tiresome his fans -and paparazzi- were most of the time. It annoyed him to the point he could punch one of those people in the face and wouldn’t excuse himself at all.

So he faked a smile and sat between the event’s managers, hoping for the best outcome.

···

Hanamiya cleared his throat.

-Alright… Before I start, I’d like to say that I appreciate every single person that has gathered here to-

A sudden wave of applauses and cheers interrupted him right when he was about to finish his sentence. It kind of annoyed him and he sighed. One of the managers tried to calm them down, but they eventually stopped as seconds passed by.

He mumbled something to himself and continued.

-Where to begin… Huh, yes. Most of you may know, but in case you don’t, I’d like to introduce it again. - He picked up a tiny book from his bag that simply had a clover on its cover and slighly raised it so people could see it properly. - Here’s my second novel, 'Risk’, and-

-We already know that! Can’t we go straight to the question part? - Someone from the public yelled and stood up at the same time. Hanamiya internally rolled his eyes as he lowered the book, and said guy sat back.

Being interrupted was something he still had to get used to.

-…Before we get to the  _good_  part, I would like to talk a bit about this novel. If I had to be honest, this is by far my best one yet. - Another person from the crowd silently clapped as he said that. Hanamiya ignored it, licking his lips. - It’s stated that I began writing it about two years ago, but the truth is, I thought about the story’s concept way long ago… During my high school days, concretely. It’s kind of a long story.

For a brief moment, he looked at the audience. It seemed like they were interesed on that story -even thought it was a really dumb story and Hanamiya acknowledged it-, and while Hanamiya wanted to go back home as soon as possible, he’d end up revealing what happened.

-So, what happened… I had this teammate, Hara. And it happened that he found a jacket that belonged to his Maths teacher. When he brought it back, however, the Maths teacher decided it would be the best to teach Hara about logarithms, since Hara knew shit about them… - He took a sip from the glass and continued. - It took him like half an hour to come back. And when he came back, he fucking solved this problem he’d been complaining about the whole week. I had to check it myself and yes, fucker did solve it.

Some people from the room applauded. Smirking, Hanamiya took another sip from the glass and waited until everyone stopped, cracking his knuckles.  _It isn’t going that bad, actually_. He looked at his phone for a quick moment and was surprised at how little time it had been since the convention started. Barely 7 minutes.  _If it continues like this, I could stop by for a drink or something…_

A girl from the audience raised her hand.

-Excuse me, but what does that have to do with the book?

-Heh, I’m glad you ask. - Hanamiya slighly raised his voice as said girl fixed her eyes at him. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself after saying that. - Both stories… They have to do with a dumbass that learns something rather complex because of an unexpected turn of events.

A delicate silence surrounded the room for a brief second before someone started laughing all of the sudden. Along that person, more people slowly began clapping and the room again was enveloped by a myriad of cheers and laughter. Hanamiya felt rather annoyed as he told that story and wouldn’t have been surprised if someone told him it was a really stupid one.

 _Amazing_ , he thought to himself.  _If Hara was here he would have probably pissed himself_.

···

Twenty minutes later, the convention had finished. 

The Q&A part ended up being longer than Hanamiya expected as someone had decided to ask a tricky question, and even being the genius he was, it took him quite a while to get the right answer. Plus, he ended talking a bit about some of his future plans and told the audience that his next novel might be even better than his most recent one.

He signed some autographs and took a few photos with some fans, hardly showing any expresion besides  _fake_  happiness -relaxed eyebrows with almost forced smiles-. Before leaving, he told his mother that he would go out for a quick walk, and would probably come back for lunch as he wanted to take a small breather from the convention.

It would be a really quick walk, as a heat wave had been striking that zone for a week now and apparently it happened to be on its highest peak. Hanamiya wasn’t used to such high temperatures at all and felt some sweat coming from his forehead, plus he noticed his legs were heavier than usual. 

He wished the heat wave left as soon as possible so he could actually go outside without perceiving that burning, exhausting feeling on his head, and made his way through.

···

And so, he ended up at a small, family-ran café. There was nobody but him and some young waiters cleaning up said store, and he took a seat outside, taking advantage of the clear, warm weather. He laid back on the seat and let out a loud yawn, waiting for someone to attend him. And it wasn’t any surprise that he looked tired; he had to wake up at 7:00 to reply to some fan-mails and he had to think about a proper speech that sounded as less offensive as possible.

Before he checked the café’s menu, he stood up and took a quick look at said place. It wasn’t anything special; a small place with a pellucid black logo, furnished with some paintings and photography and a few plants. There was a fairly big TV inside that seemed to be off most of the time, and tiny, neon-coloured lights were hanging on the walls, along a few fans. A coffee maker could be seen on the desk -it was required to ask for permission and pay 500Yen in case you wanted to use it-, and the place itself looked nicely done.

Hanamiya didn’t look impressed by all of this and so returned to his table, resting on the seat.

-Jesus… Just how dirty those bathrooms are.

-Well, maybe there was someone cleaning the counter.

That voice sounded familiar to him. It was a dead, empty voice -the kind of voice that could easily get stuck in your head-, and Hanamiya felt a rather unpleasant presence behind him.

A presence he was used to.

-Sure it’s been a while, Koujirou.

Hanamiya barely recognized him at first. The very first he noticed was that Furuhashi was now using glasses. His dead eyes remained the same and his child-like features didn’t change at all, and his hair had grown a bit -his bangs were still parted on the left side, plus he had a tiny ponytail on his back-. Wearing a plain, fade-like blue tee, pure-black jeans and old-looking sneakers, he’d brought a notebook with him, which contained some recipes he had to practice at home.

Furuhashi gazed at Hanamiya for a moment, locking eyes, then sat besides him. He remained the rude, nonchalant individual he was back then and it was something about him that didn’t seem to change. 

-I heard about your new book on the radio. - He left his notebook on the table and picked up the café’s menu, thinking about something he could order. His voice, monotone and dead, hadn’t changed at all, and the unappealing feeling he brought with himself still was there.

Hanamiya slighly raised an eyebrow, staring at him.

-And?

-Well, I might buy it at some point. - His expression softened as he blinked. It felt kind of strange for him to talk with Hanamiya after all those years, but his presence still was something he enjoyed. - I really liked your first novel, by the way.

Smirking, Hanamiya snatched the menu from him. It happened so quickly, Furuhashi merely had any time to react. He rested his arms on the table and brought a hand to his cheek, waiting for the servants to attend them. By far, he was the most patient of the two, but would end up yelling at the waiters if they took much longer.

-Anything, good luck on your next-

-I know, “good luck” and such, - Hanamiya interrupted him in the middle of his sentence and Furuhashi removed his hand from his cheek, now resting both arms on the table. - but let’s not make this whole talk about me.

···

-A breather, huh?

Hanamiya mixed some sugar with his coffee as Furuhashi talked, his eyes perceiving how the coffee’s tone turned darker as he removed the spoon from the mug. The temperature only seemed to raise and the Sun looked brighter than before, and Hanamiya hated how easily his T-shirt got dumped with sweat. And he wished he’d ordered something cold instead of capuccino.

 _Tch, still talking about me_. He thought about a way to change the talk’s direction and Furuhashi checked some things from his notebook. Hanamiya didn’t bother to ask him about his notes -but still was curious about whatever Furuhashi had chose to study- and came up with the “perfect” topic.

-Say, Koujirou, - he took a sip from the torrid, bitter drink before proceeding, - you know something about the others?

A tiny smile sketched in Furuhashi’s face as he swept some sweat from his chin. 

-How surprising it is, that you ask about your former teammates. - Hanamiya ignored this. - As far as I know, Seto chose to study at the University of Tokyo-

-He was forced to, let’s be honest here. - It was unknown if Furuhashi would acknowledge that comment, but his calm, stoic expression already answered it. - What about those two?

-Nothing about Yamazaki, but I’ve met with Hara several times. Apparently, he joined a band or something.

Slighly raising his eyebrows, Hanamiya laughed. His iconic laugh -loud and teasing, a sound that even annoyed some people- reverberated in Furuhashi’s ear. For him it was a rather pleasing sound, plus he kind of missed it. It had been so long without talking with Hanamiya that he almost forgot how he sounded like, and hearing the boy’s guttural, unique voice even brought him some memories back.

-We all knew it would happen. - He licked some coffee from his lips, savoring the bitter, gloomy taste of said drink, and bit his lower lip afterwards. - He kept talking about joining a band or some shit.

As much as Hanamiya wanted to forget about his former teammates, he actually became somewhat fond of them during the time they spent together at high school. It was something he didn’t regret at all, as those guys were some of the few people that didn’t annoy him -despite the fact that two of them sometimes pestered him, to the point Hanamiya ended up scolding them-.

He wouldn’t care if the guys planned a meeting in the future, but still would be unsure if he’d join. Hanamiya did care for his teammates, up to a certain point, and felt indifferent towards an eventual reunion.

Furuhashi felt their conversation was about to hit a dead end, but wasn’t able to properly think about something he could say to bring some life in. So again, he picked up his notebook and took another look at a recipe he still had to improve -and would need for a critique that would help with one of his grades-. Hanamiya seemed to be interested on whatever he was looking at and showed a small grin.

-Are those formulas or something? - He tried to peek at Furuhashi’s notebook but decided to stay on his seat briefly before doing so.

-It’s actually a recipe I need to improve for a test. - He didn’t remove his eyes from the notebook’s surface as he talked.

-I see. - The coffee had left a bitter, black taste on his mouth and he wouldn’t regret it, but would regret ordering a hot drink instead of a cold, replenishing one. Hanamiya picked up his wallet, checking if he had enough money to pay for both of them. - If anything, you went to Hattori, didn’t you.

Closing his notebook, Furuhashi felt a faint wave of delight traveling through his body. It didn’t surprise him, though, as he knew that Hanamiya would mention something alike eventually. He lifted up his glasses and felt bad for Hanamiya, as he was the one that initially was going to pay. But, if he wanted to pay, then Furuhashi sure would let him.

-The more you know.

-Heh. Thought you were going to attempt Linguistics. - Hanamiya left 700Yen on the table -the exact amount of money he’d brought with himself- and placed the spoon back on the mug. - But, guess it’s nice that Hattori accepted you. From what I’ve heard, you’ve probably risked a lot.

-Being honest, the entrance exams weren’t that hard. - Scratching the upper side of his head, Furuhashi stood up, picking his notebook. Their conversation felt rather short for him, but he was expecting it, as he’d never been any good at keeping conversations going on. - We just had to make a dish using an unusual ingredient. If only I’d knew before.

-How naive from you. - He raised from the seat and took a deep breath. Hanamiya wanted to go back home as soon as possible, as he wouldn’t be able to endure such extreme temperatures. - If anything, I’m glad you made it.

···

Their conversation eventually ended, with Furuhashi vowing they would meet again -and being the one that payed for their drinks-. He thought about a future meeting with the whole team, but it would require a previous set-up as their schedules were different and they would have to discuss about a proper hour -and place- to meet. Saying said thing would take a couple of weeks wasn’t enough, as regarding their business, it might even take months.

But that wasn’t what concerned Hanamiya at the moment. It probably had to do with the temperature, but his legs felt heavy and Hanamiya himself felt dizzy. He decided to ignore said feeling and endure the heat until he made it home. 

···

Wiping some sweat from his forehead, he took off his hairtie and kept it on his pocket, running his hand through his hair and said touches left an oily, gross feel on his fingers.  _The heck… I took a damn shower when I woke up. Fuck this weather_. He played with his fingertips for a moment, trying to get rid of said feeling, all of this while some people stared at him like he was some kind of weirdo. 

He would probably had to withstand it for even more time than he expected.

_Man, I wish I had a towel or something. Even a water bottle would help. Why the fuck didn’t I order water back at that café?_

He turned left, walking towards a pedestrian crossing positioned along a bus stop. If only that route included my street. He placed himself facing the crossing, hoping nobody would recognised him, and waited patiently for the lights to turn green. 

However, not everything was quiet and soothing. It wasn’t just the heat that had increased -with temperatures that briefly reached 42 degrees, a blazing sun and some people that were about to pass out due the heat wave-, but a shiver suddenly ran through Hanamiya’s body, as if something was about to happen. He fixed his eyes on the road, and, as careless as he could be, he hoped nothing happened, either to him or to the people surrounding him.

The lights eventually turned green, but instead of crossing the street, he stood there, eyes staring at him and someone. His headache seemed to increase and, for a brief second, he faced Death before his eyes: one of the cars would leave the road, crashing into the street, and everything would turn black after that. Said scene seemed absurd to him at first, but left him kind of frightened as it even felt real.

He swallowed. His throat felt sore and one of his hands began to tremble, a single drop of sweat running down his face as a wave of panic slowly seized his body. It was a feeling he wasn’t used at all and seemed kind of weird to him. 

Gazing at the other side of the street, he doubted whether to cross the street or not. It may have been a joke, as if his own brain was playing some kind of prank on him. But that sequence felt way too real and he even was starting to feel afraid. He fixed his eyes on the westernmost side of the road and the lights turned red again.

_Someone like me shouldn’t worry over such dumb things like this._

Internally, he told himself to calm down and took a deep breath, hoping that wave of panic would eventually leave him, when someone patted his shoulder.

-Hey, - someone said, hoping it would calm down. However, they were far from soothing him. - don’t know who you are, but nothing’s going to happen. You should calm down.

Hanamiya was the kind of person that would usually ignore such comments, but decided to follow that person’s advice -wasn’t the kind to follow people’s advice, however, as he was confident with his skills-. Thought, he never removed his gaze from the road’s westernmost side, as he still felt like something was about to happen.

Biting his lower lip, he noticed a weird pattern in one of the incoming cars and he immediately recognized said car. The same one he saw on his vision, and the same one that would crash into the street. Said car was moving at a medium speed, however, it followed a zigzag-like movement pattern, as if the driver was distracting itself or something alike. The car seemed to diverge to the right side and would crash against a post -or even against the street itself-.

It was exactly the same as Hanamiya’s premonition.

He clenched his fist and half-regretted what he was about to say, as anxiety overtook his brain. 

-Everyone, move aside! - He stepped backwards, spreading one of his arms to the side. People around him fixed their eyes at him, confused, and only one of them actually listened to him and followed his advice. - The hell!? Fucking move aside, or else you’ll end up at the hospital, your dumbasses! I’m serious!

Pointing at the car, he stood there, and the car headed towards the street. Its velocity remained the same, but the impact would still be critical if there was someone on its way. Eventually, people heard him and ran to the street’s farthests sides, where the car was sure not to impact. The vehicle would impact circa the pedestrian crossing, right where Hanamiya was standing.

And he knew it. During the previous moments, he’d made up on his mind which route the car would follow and how it would crash onto a little store behind him. It was nothing more than speculation, but everything was going the way he programmed it to be. It even scared him.

So he tried to avoid it, too. He ran to the easternmost side of the street, and due the intense heat wave, passed out before he could avoid the car’s route. His legs weakened and he fell in the middle of the street, and the car’s driver didn’t notice his presence until he collided with some kind of bulk -nor the people’s screams as they ran away from it-. Said driver immediately slowed down until its car stopped, but still ran into the store, barely making any contact with its windows -althought it left one of them half-broken, the window’s crashing sound echoing on his head-.

Once the driver stepped outside its car, he looked around of him and noticed a small bulge positioned beneath the fence, with something extended and facing the road. However, it didn’t took him long until he discovered it wasn’t anything alike a simple bulk, but someone’s body. That person walked towards that body and heard someone calling the ambulance, along some people panicking and even screaming.

His arm was broken, and had bruises all over his body. A layer of blood came from his head, the crimson liquid running down his cheeks and his face had turned pale, to the point he looked sick. There weren’t many major wounds on his body -aside a broken arm and a dislocated feet- and not many blood came from them. Most of them were minor wounds, but it was the heat wave what knocked him out on the first place. Some of his clothes had been ripped off and were dumped with blood, and he was sweating heavily.

The driver felt itself puking, but held back the vomit and stood there, panicking, hoping he wasn’t dead. His fingers trembled as he reached to the boy’s heart, praying so he could pick up a heartbeat.

But he didn’t.

_H-his wounds ain’t that severe! He mustn’t be dead!_

Breathing heavily, the driver kneeled down, his eyes wide opened and his whole body trembling as the sick feeling came back, and puked. It left him even more disgusted than he was already and he waited until the ambulance finally came, while someone decided to watch over him, trying to calm the driver down.

Once the ambulance took Hanamiya’s body, not everything was immediately over, as those who survived the accident -because of his warning- wondered what in the world had happened. They called their families, telling them about what just happened and how they survived, all of this surrounded by an anxious feeling all of them shared and that wouldn’t go away so easily.

And all of this happened too quickly for even Hanamiya to avoid it.


	2. 疚 (Guilt)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After far more than one month, here it is.

-Jesus, how many games did you brought!?

Yamazaki stared, amazed, at the incredible amount of old-school games his friend had brought with him. Most of them were bootlegs he’d found at online stores and fairly unknown websites.

The boy scattered them on the floor, as if Yamazaki’s room wasn’t dirty enough. Yamazaki raised an eyebrow, silently looking at each cartridge as he tried not to get too anxious, while his friend just smiled at him. And Yamazaki was doing his best to not yell at him or break a window. His anger issues and his hot-headed personality hadn’t changed at all, and he still was that noisy kid from high school.

-Well, - he scratched his forehead, wiping some sweat. A single fan on that room didn’t seem to be enough to keep it fresh - they were really cheap, y'know.

-Of course they were cheap, goddammit! - Yamazaki sighed, trying to calm himself down. But it was useless. He had even less patience than five years ago and could get angry at the slightest things, something from him that he’d been working on for years. He picked up a random cartridge. - See, this one is from Russia. Russian SNES bootlegs… Jesus, sounds like that one video Joel uploaded time ago.

His friend’s face softened and his smile vanished. Yamazaki was always talking about this Joel guy and how he’d played most of those terrifying bootlegs long ago. The boy’s expression looked confused and Yamazaki turned to him, knowing almost exactly what he was about to ask.

-You’re always talking about that Joel guy but-

-Ah, I didn’t told you? - Yamazaki’s features relaxed and he calmed down in a matter of seconds. It was amazing how easily he could shift between anger and peace. - Well, it was thanks to him that I became a streamer.

His friend stood up, picking up one of Yamazaki’s multiple gamepads from his desk and connected it to said boy’s computer. He could be really helpful if he wanted, but he usually was Yamazaki’s lazy, smug roommate, who sometimes talked during his streams without his permission.

-So he must’ve been a good streamer.

Yamazaki began laughing. His roommate had no clue on what was happening to him, but it was always nice to see him on such a nice, light-hearted mood.

-And he was! - he laughed - It’s a long story I don’t feel like talking about right now, thought.

The roommate smiled at him, heading towards the living room to pick up some wires Yamazaki would need for his stream to work properly. He decided to turn on the radio, which was at full volume because Yamazaki spent the whole previous day listening to this Alternative Rock station, and forgot to turn it down.

A loud scream came from Yamazaki’s room and something fell on the floor.

-Eh! I’m sorry, man! - A “Jesus!” came from Yamazaki’s room and he tried to arrange everything in order for the stream to work properly. - I-I’ll lower the volume, I guess-

“ _On latest news, an accident has been reported at Yamashita Street_.”

Raising an eyebrow, the boy felt curious about said news and decided not to lower the radio’s volume, sitting on a tiny cushion and accomodating himself. Yamazaki heard the radio too, but decided to ignore it as he wasn’t really fond of the news.

-You won’t listen, Yamazaki? - He yelled. Yamazaki didn’t bother to answer at all.

“ _A car accident, it was. Only one person got injured. Said person somehow managed to change the car’s path, and some witnesses have claimed that he saved them_.”

 _Ah, what a hero_ , he thought, half-smiling.  _But, why does all of this give me a bad feeling?_

-Y'called? - Yamazaki ended up joining him, bringing a black gamepad with him. He, of course, wasn’t done setting up the stream at all and was overwhelming himself due the amount of stuff he had to set up. - What’s with the accident thing?

-I don’t know, but it’s unsettling me.

The roommate slighly increased the radio’s volume and Yamazaki sat besides him, leaving the gamepad on the floor. Even though he really didn’t care about the news, he decided to listen to whatever was going on, since the witnesses’ confessions caugh his attention.

“ _However, the individual that ended up injured is currently held at the hospital. Nurses have reported that, while they didn’t lost many blood, they’re on a comatose state, and doctors are unsure on how long they’ll take to wake up._ ”

Yamazaki frowned.  _How did they end up on a comatose state if the blood loss wasn’t severe?_ , he thought. Anything that had to do with medicine sounded foreign to him.

And, when he thought news were over, something that he wasn’t expecting came up.

“ _Even though we’re unsure of who the victim was, one of the witnesses has claimed that the victim happened to be none other that Makoto Hanamiya-san, one of today’s most acclaimed authors_.”

Yamazaki snapped out of his mind the second Hanamiya’s name was mentioned. He slighly raised his eyebrows, his jaw slowly dropping as those words echoed on his mind. His roommate tried to say something to him, but Yamazaki’s expression -frightened and cold, with some drops of sweat running down his forehead- forbade him from doing so.

He felt a shiver running down his body and the urge to call his former teammates. But, for a moment, he stopped and wondered if any of them did remember their old captain. Yamazaki stood up, quickly heading towards the phone without saying anything. Judging by his sudden mood twist, his roommate decided to turn off the radio, picking up the gamepad from the floor.

Yamazaki’s hands trembled as he tried to pick up the phone. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but he just couldn’t. It had been five years since he saw Hanamiya for the last time and all of the sudden, they would meet again at a damn hospital. He’d always been terrible when handling anxiety and that sudden fear outburst was something that, if not anxiety, would be hard for him to handle. 

And it was well-known that Yamazaki was bad when handling his feelings; his younger self’s rage would burst out of nowhere and it would take him a while until he finally calmed down and stopped randomly yelling at people.

His pulse increased as he finally picked up the phone, typing someone’s number. Before saying anything, he took another deep breath, hoping his pulse would decrease and his arms would stop shaking. Or else, he wouldn’t be able to talk at all.

···

It was well-known that Hanamiya became a different person at the basketball club. His sadistic side showed up, and he’d make up some of the hardest practice schedules. Even though his goal had nothing to do with winning or beating the Generation of Miracles, but it was some kind of personal goal instead.

While many people left the team after he became not only Kirisaki Daiichi’s captain, but also coach, those who decided to stay immediately realized their mistake.

Of course, not everything was black. It was true that Hanamiya was really rough during practice and wouldn’t let anyone slack off, even forcing them to stay almost 4 hours if they didn’t do good enough. He would even rant at anyone that failed to complete one of Hanamiya’s tasks, and if you ever told him something regarding his playstyle, then you were ready to face Death itself.

Which didn’t mean there wasn’t anything positive about Hanamiya’s practice schedules and programs.

Hanamiya was able to perceive the slightest changes on his team players’ stats. If he felt like someone needed to improve their skills, he would often tell them, pointing out their flaws and the areas which they had to improve. And, while his behavior towards most of the club’s members was cold -especially Yamazaki, the one that refused to try rough play-, he still had a hidden bright side, which he constantly denied.

Outside the club, however, Hanamiya was just that bright teenager that managed to get along with some of his classmates. While he still kept part of his obscure personality and was kind of rude towards some students, he had some good friendships and his behavior was much pleasant. Some of his classmates referred to him as “a good person”, and Yamazaki often felt pity for them.

Yamazaki could instantly remember all those times the boys hanged out together after practice. And, somehow, memories from their graduation came back, and he recalled the exact moment when Hanamiya asked them to not meet again. He claimed it was the best for them all, but it was well-known that Hanamiya wouldn’t mind a get-together someday.

Maybe he wasn’t a ‘Bad Boy’ at all. Outside the team, of course.

···

-Who’s this?

That dead voice Yamazaki immediately recognized resonated throughout his ears, sending a chill down his spine. That voice he hadn’t heard in five years and that always managed to spook him, still did.

-F-Furuhashi! I know I’m calling you all of the sudden-

-Ah, Yamazaki? - Said boy clenched his fist upon listening. He was expecting Furuhashi to know about the accident, but at the same time, it didn’t surprise him.

-It’s-

-Yeah, it’s been a while. Even mum knows it has been quite a goddamn while! - He sighed again. It wasn’t anything new for Yamazaki to get angry during phone calls, though. - Anything, you’ve heard about that accident?

The truth is, that Furuhashi had no clue about the accident. By that time, he’d just arrived home and wanted to rest from today’s intense heat. Nobody told him about the accident, nor he met any survivor on his way back home. He barely arrived home and the news report was over, both on TV and the radio. His father happened to be home too, but he didn’t saw the news either.

-Which one?

And Yamazaki knew that if he mentioned anything about that accident, Furuhashi would be heartbroken. He would probably drop the phone and rush to the hospital, and ask the doctor a number of questions about Hanamiya’s condition. Hell, he could even stay over the hospital, waiting for Hanamiya to wake up and recover.

Yamazaki knew this, and still told him.

-You’re not gonna like this. - He gulped. - So, this accident happened at Yamashita Street. Everyone survived but this one guy, and somehow he managed to alter the car’s path or some shit.

-So he kind of saw it coming?

-Yeah, something like that… - A dim silence filled their conversation for a moment. Yamazaki’s anxiety was growing, and it seemed like as if he couldn’t do anything about it. 

There was  _no way_  he could tell Furuhashi about Hanamiya’s condition. If he couldn’t picture him showing any kind of emotion, then there was no actual way he could mention anything. But Yamazaki would end up telling him about the accident, as much as he kept telling himself not to.

-About the victim-

-Did they mention anything about it?

Yamazaki’s mouth ran dry and his mind slowly became a mess. He was still trying to find the right way to tell him. But, even if he did, the outcome would be the same: Furuhashi would either break down or head immediately to the hospital, probably both at the same time.

Even if Furuhashi was the most composed individual he knew -sometimes he’d remain so quiet it looked like as he wasn’t there-, said scenario would be unavoidable and Yamazaki would need to calm him down. And of course, he’d fail.

He swallowed, trying to damp his dry lips with the very few saliva on his tongue.

-…It was Hanamiya - he gasped. Yet again, his pulse increased and that immense feeling of grief filled him again. He was on the verge of tears and almos regretted saying that. There was no turning back this time. - He’s now on a comatose state, at the hospital-

He stopped. By the time he’d mentioned Hanamiya’s name, Furuhashi had already hung up the phone. Yamazaki knew beforehand that his reaction would be like that, but wasn’t expecting him to hang up that early. 

On the other side, however, he almost  _knew_  Furuhashi would hang up right after naming him. From his years in high school he’d learned how caring Furuhashi could act towards Hanamiya sometimes and their friendship managed to amaze him most of the time, since he truly wasn’t expecting that someone like Hanamiya could get along with anybody.

But yet, even if he knew many things about their relationship, there were some interesting things he -and the other guys- still had to find out about them. Specially about Hanamiya, who never mentioned many things about himself or his past, even if asked.

He was no one to talk about Furuhashi’s feelings, though, so he too hung up the phone, staring at nothing but a window in front of him with dead eyes. He felt anger, confusion, sadness, all at the same time, and couldn’t make up his mind.

But still, he felt sorry for him.

···

And Yamazaki was right.

After such a call, Furuhashi remained silent for a moment, as he was unsure on how to feel. About an hour ago he was enjoying a casual talk with Hanamiya and now it all sounded like a big joke.

He decided not to cry, to repress his feelings until he wasn’t able to hold back his tears anymore. Slighly walking throughout the hospital’s halls, he perfectly knew they wouldn’t let him visit Hanamiya on his current state, so he decided to, at least, learn about his condition and ask the doctor how much time it’ll take him to come back to his senses.

However it wasn’t as easy as it seemed to be.

His mind was yelling all kinds of negative thoughts at him as he walked. That it was his own fault, because he couldn’t keep that conversation for a while and try to avoid that outcome. That he could’ve totally avoided those events. And his own mind was tricking him into thinking that Hanamiya wasn’t on a coma, but was dead, and there was no reason for him to visit.

And he really wanted to get rid of those thoughts. He wanted to clear his mind, to believe nothing worse happened to him and that he’d be alright.

After all, he just came to the hospital to learn about his friends’ condition. 

Still, he felt a strong urge to just lay down and cry, to repress his feelings. While he wanted to accept what just had happened with Hanamiya, at the same time it didn’t felt realistic at all. 

It felt like a big joke, a bizarre illusion. He wished it was all a dream he could just wake up from. That everything was just a made-up lie and Hanamiya wasn’t on such a state. He just wanted that such a thing didn’t happened at all and everything remained as it was.

And so, he stood in the middle of the hall, trying to calm himself down before seeing the doctor. He wanted to keep his composure while asking questions and breaking down during said moment would totally be a failure.

Before his eyes he saw a small figure holding some sheets that contained some analyses they’ve done before. Said person stopped in front of him, showing a neutral expression. She cleared her throat in an attempt to get Furuhashi’s attention and the boy just lowered his head, fixing his eyes on the sheets.

-Excuse me, - she said, keeping a soft yet firm tone - are you looking for an specific room or patient?

Furuhashi nodded at her.

-Yes. May I know where the ICU room is?

-Well, I just got back, but if you keep walking towards your current direction, you’ll eventually reach it. 

Slighly raising his eyebrows, Furuhashi thanked her, even though he had a slight idea on where that room could be placed. The nurse had an idea on who he could be and why would he ask for the ICU, and despite those being just speculations, she decided to give it a try.

She shaked the sheets, cleared her throat and walked along Furuhashi, who stopped just a few seconds after he began walking. Gently smiling at him, the nurse picked up some sheets from her pack and glanced over them.

-Perhaps you’re asking for Hanamiya-san, am I right?

Furuhashi stood silent for a moment, amazed at the nurse’s words. On that hallway, there was no one but them -which was surprising, because that hospital was usually really busy-, and the silent that flooded around them just added more pressure.

-…I am. - It almost sounded like as if he was whispering something under his breath, but the nurse was able to hear it.

Furuhashi accomodated himself on one of those chairs -that weren’t any comfy, but rough, solid seats that made him uncomfortable-. Nothing like those soft seats he knew from other hospitals. The nurse then proceed reading. 

-It’s not a reliable analysis, however, since he must spend over 24 hours at the ICU so we can come up with a more detailed one.

Silently nodding, Furuhashi glanced over his wristwatch. Almost 10 minutes since he walked inside the hospital and rigorously searched for a certain room, without asking any of the doctors or nurses about its location. He didn’t felt like asking anyone, and had a good sense of direction.

-I’m alright with his current condition. - He kept his voice as low as possible, and while his tone sounded rude, the nurse didn’t mind at all.

-Then it’s alright. - Once again, she cleeared her throat. - While he didn’t receive any major injuries on his body, both his right arm’s radius and ulna got injured, his radius broken and his ulna with minor wounds. His left tibia and fibula suffered minor wounds, but he’ll still need treatment for them to recover properly. The rest of his body just suffered from minor wounds and cuts.

 _Well, now that’s ironic_. He’d carefully listened to the nurse’s words, and while he didn’t knew that much about medicine, so far he’d understood her analysis.

-Anything else?

The nurse’s expression suddenly changed, from soft and quiet to serious and gloomy, as if she was going to announce something important.

-…Yes. - The boy frowned. - We still haven’t come up with an in-depth analysis, but we believe his comatose state may derive from major wounds coming from his cerebal cortex. His hippocampus was affected too, but not on a severe way. But his prefrontal cortex suffered from major damage too, and part of his frontal lobe was damaged too. This may be heavily inaccurate, as we haven’t done a proper analysis yet, but we’ll try to do so as early as possible.

_So it was just a blow, wasn’t it._

While Furuhashi looked like as he didn’t understood anything, he possessed basic knowledge about the human brain and its functions, and wouldn’t beg for an explanation. But if the nurse insisted on a short summary, he wouldn’t deny it.

-By the way, - she continued - we’re unsure how longer he’ll stay on his current state. Regarding how many damage he took from the accident, it may take him up to a week to wake up and recover from the coma, and we’ve speculated so.

He nodded again, rising from his seat. After hearing such reports, he couldn’t imagine in which state his friend was and how the future analysis would turn out to be like. There were many things he’d like to ask the nurse regarding his condition and how his wounds could develop, but the simple thought of Hanamiya developing a trauma -or something even worse- made him sick, and he just couldn’t think about such an scenario.

His lips dried up as he walked towards the nurse, dead eyes as usual and his skin turning pale. The nurse looked at him as she’d seen a dying one in front of her, and worried about him.

-Anyway, - she said, trying to not raise her voice too much, and picking up her phone from her pocket - I’m sure you would appreciate it if we kept you updated on your friend’s status.

Furuhashi was about to come up with the same idea, but decided to remain silent and respect the nurse’s words. Of course, it would be the best option, as he would hate repeatedly going back to the hospital just to ask about his friends’ condition, and worrying to the point he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night because he couldn’t keep away those negatives thoughts.

-…Thank you.

···

“… _And that’s what they’ve said regarding his condition_.”

In terms of medicine, there was no doubt Yamazaki had absolutely no clue about anything, so Furuhashi had to summarize it so he could understand. Everything he managed to grasp was that Hanamiya broke a few bones, his brain ended up severely damaged and he would be on a coma for no longer than a week.

Their call lasted no longer than 5 minutes. Yamazaki didn’t have to ask him to summarize anything or explain a few terms for him, as Furuhashi already began by simplifying any terms he thought Yamazaki wouldn’t understand.

The orange-haired boy was thankful for that response, but at the same time, he believed Furuhashi thought he was dumb. It was different from high school, as now he wasn’t a stupid teenager that took hours to understand a mathematic formula, but an adult that was slowly trying to get his life together.  
And he was well aware of both his behavior and actions, so when he stood in front of that house, lips drying up as he felt his heartbeats increasing, he knew he was totally confident on his actions.

“I’ll just tell her about her son’s status and leave.”

That was what he thought. However, the simple thought of telling a woman about her son’s condition -or just mentioning his current condition- sent shivers down his spine, making him sick to the point he would freeze during the explanation. Yamazaki didn’t even want to tell her the news, but at the same time, leaving said explanation to Furuhashi would be a mistake, as he knew beforehand that the boy would end up bursting in tears as he talked.

For him, there was no turning back now. Leaving right now would be something of a coward, but that was the only way in which he could help with the matter.

So he walked towards the door, ringing its bell. He’d spend almost 6 years without visiting said house, and while he could recall the very last time he visited it, he decided not to recall many events, as it would only add to his already existing melancholy.

He could hear a low voice coming from the speaker. 

-Um, yes? Who might you be?

He recognized it straight away and it drew a tiny smile on his face, but his increasing melancholy and anxiety remained as well. If he already struggled when telling Furuhashi, who knows what might happen to him while reporting said news to Hanamiya’s mother.

Yamazaki would keep reminding himself to keep calm, specially knowing he might burst at any moment, and tried to keep his voice as soft and silvery as possible, even though he still couldn’t properly control himself.

-Ah, excuse me? - He hesitated for a moment before continuing. - I-I don’t know if you’ll remember me, but-

-Yamazaki-kun? - The woman’s voice, although quiet, was as tender and soft as he could remember, and Yamazaki immediately knew there was nothing he had to worry about. But the fact that she remembered him -and probably the rest of the boys- surprised him. - It’s been quite a while! My, what a surprise. Did you come to visit?

Yamazaki stuttered before replying.  _Man, I’m going to die while telling her_.

-Y-Yeah, exactly! - Although he didn’t raise his voice that much, he felt like as he’d just yelled at her and gave a rude response. All those years and he still couldn’t control his voice’s volume.

Before he could say anything else, the house’s door opened, but Yamazaki stood on his spot. There was a conflict ongoing on his mind, and it was the worst moment for it to happen. While he kept telling himelf it would be alright, on the other side, however, he felt like as he would ruin everything, and the mere thought of Hanamiya’s mother hearing about her son was enough to emotionally break him.

But Yamazaki wouldn’t keep those thoughts together. He would hate to leave it all behind right now and to give up like a coward. And he was no coward.

So he sighed, trying to get rid of those ominous thoughts that were wandering around his head at the moment, hoping everything would be alright and he wouldn’t break down in the middle of the talk. His expression softened and he clenched his fists for the last time, and while he felt kind of soothed, he still was anxious and kept thinking about possible outcomes regarding their talk.

-Yamazaki-kun? 

The boy snapped out of his mind upon hearing her voice, seeing her small, dim silhouette behind the door. Taking a deep breath, he felt slighly better with himself -even though he still was worrying and negative thoughts still wandered around his head- and walked towards the door, looking around him.

That place he hadn’t visited in over 5 years remained as silent and modest as he could remember. Its garden, althought small, was still charming, filled with white roses and smaller plants that possessed unique designs and patterns, and freshly watered. All of them were dyed with pale, pastel-like tones, even though Hanamiya himself preferred darker tones. The houses’ exterior wasn’t anything unusual: pure-white walls and a dark, marine-blue rooftop, with tiny lights placed on the sides and a worn-out antena on the rooftop.

Yamazaki followed the woman into the house, looking around. Yes, it did bring back a few memories, but he didn’t like many of them, as the majority of them were embarrasing; was it him asking Hanamiya for some advice, or him struggling with exams and just dropping by to get Hanamiya’s help. Even thought it truly helped him back them, now they were nothing but stupid memories that made him upset.

Upon entering the house’s hallway, he noticed a small picture with a silver, now rusted frame, placed on a petite, narrowed drawer, that somehow managed to get his attention. Hanamiya’s mother went straight into the kitchen, thinking Yamazaki would appreciate some snacks. She always did it every time one the boys dropped by, even though Hanamiya kept telling her it wasn’t really needed.

Picking up said picture, Yamazaki took a closer look at it. It was a small child, probably around the age of 8, with pale and delicate skin and chubby cheeks. Round, olive eyes with a glimpse of innocence on them, and short, black hair that reached his chin. Tiny, thick eyebrows that gave him a surprised expression, and a lazy yet warm smile. Such an angelic look from someone that would eventually become one of the Devil’s cohorts.

It made Yamazaki smile. He left the picture back on the drawer, sighing, and he wondered how someone could’ve changed that much. He looked around a bit more, but there wasn’t anything really interesting: just small frames hanging on those faded, pure-white walls, and a vase next to the picture. The boy then headed directly to the living room, slighly amused by the incredible silent that enveloped the hall.

And the living room wasn’t anything different. It remained as quite as the hall -and that place overall- was, with a small kotatsu on its center and a TV placed on the corner. There was a small fan placed close to the window, and a tiny cup of tea was placed on the kotatsu, along a good amount of notebooks and pencils. Yamazaki sat around the kotatsu, looking around the room. It felt kind of weird to him as he was used to those urban-like rooms and it had been really long since he last saw a kotatsu.

The woman eventually joined the room, leaving a basket filled with oranges and tangerines. Yamazaki wasn’t any hungry at the moment -in fact, he already had a good breakfast before leaving his place-, but he didn’t mean to act rude and picked up a small orange from the basket. He tried really hard to keep a calm expression, but he still wasn’t ready to tell her the news.

-Feel free to settle yourself in. - Her voice, warm and sweet, like giving someone a long hug in the middle of winter or holding hands with your beloved one, or a warm gust of wind, sent a shiver down his throat. She seemed so tender and fragile that Yamazaki thought not telling her would be the best idea.

Yamazaki blinked for a moment, trying to find the right moment to tell her. But, even thought, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He wasn’t ready to see one of his friends’ relatives breaking down in front of him, nor he wanted to break down himself.

-Anyway, - his voice was slowly getting croaky and he looked at the multiple notebooks and sheets scattered on the table - are those Hanamiya’s-

The woman gently nodded at him, placing her chin on her palm.

-Yes. He spends a lot of money on them, since he’s always writing… - She gave a kindkearted smile and Yamazaki payed close attention to her words, waiting for that moment. - Makoto is truly passionate about his writings, even though he keeps saying they’re just a hobby for him.

Yamazaki swallowed.

-D-During high school he too spent a lot of time writing, actually… - He immediately broke the sentence as the woman stood up, picking up the basket and making as little noise as possible. Yamazaki snapped again. - By the way, if you need any help, I-I’m here-

-Well, I’d appreciate it if you called Makoto… Before he left, he said he’d be back before 12AM, and now it’s close to 2PM. - Her expression turned slightly doubtful. - Who knows, maybe that event was longer than expected, or he’s just eating outside.

Yamazaki remained blank, unsure on what to say. It looked like as that moment he’d been waiting for had finally arrived, but on the other side, he didn’t want to hurt or shock her. A warm gust of wind made it through the window with small, dim rays of sunlight, a soft breeze gently shaking the curtains, and Yamazaki couldn’t hold himself any longer. He stood up, keeping a rough, yet determined expression on his face, and while he still felt the need -and had to- calm down, he had to take advantage of that moment.

-Hanamiya-san. - The woman looked at him, keeping her stoic expression. - The truth is… That he won’t be back for a while.

Yamazaki lowered his head, not willing to make any eye contact. He didn’t want to claim it would be harder for him, as he felt like he was placing his feelings before hers. As if he was comparing himself, a common guy that happened to play on the same team as Hanamiya, with one of his relatives. And it truly was something stupid to do, at least for him. The woman remained reluctant, slightly tilting her head as she wondered what could’ve happened with her son.

An accident wasn’t one of them.

-…Excuse me? - Her voice turned dull, as she could foresee those news incoming. 

Again, there was no turning back. Yamazaki couldn’t leave this time, even if he wanted, as he’d already made a decision. He frowned, biting down his lips as he processed, again, what he was going to say. He’d hate to fuck up.

-There was an accident about 1 or 2 hours ago, and, - He shrugged, taking a deep breath. - he’s now at the hospital, and the nurse… She doesn’t know when he’ll wake up.

···

Furuhashi had been lying on his bed since he arrived home. He was severely exhausted from his previous hospital visit and all the ongoing issues, not to mention his head hurt like hell and he felt like doing nothing for the rest of the day.

However, that was something impossible for him at the moment. Unlike those short breaks he took between homework and practises, it wasn’t something he could just do, nor it would be easy for him at the moment. As he couldn’t concentrate at all. He couldn’t focus on something as simple as taking a short nap, or simply forgetting about reality for a while.

His eyes, half-closed and watery, as he’d been holding his urge to cry for longer than he thought, were fixed nowhere but in his room’s ceiling. He’d told his family before that he wasn’t hungry at all and he was kind of tired from that morning, and headed directly towards his room. His younger sister trying to say something to him, but after seeing his expresion, she refrained from doing so.

What a liar he was.

As silent as he seemed to be, his mind was yelling at him, yet again, and it got worse as time passed. He wanted to forget everything. He wanted to forget about the accident, to erase those words from his mind, to erase those images his brain had created. To forget about what the nurse had told him before. He wanted all of that to just be a big joke. He wanted to wake up, and all of that to be just a dumb nightmare.

But it wasn’t a nightmare, nor a joke. It was happening in front of his eyes, and he would probably never forget about it. It would remain stuck on his head until he finally got over it.

“ _Get over it._ ”

He was forcing himself to forget it, which not only made it worse, but also brought unnecesary and distant memories back. He didn’t notice this at all, and kept trying to forcefully forget those events, which would stay with him longer than he thought.

He recalled that time in which Hanamiya told him he was quite making progress at basketball and gave him some advice. The boy told him he could be a really good addition to the team and would add him to the first string, which encouraged him. Although those words came from such individuals’ mouth.

Or that time when they were walking back home, and Furuhashi cut off their conversation by holding hands with him. Upon noticing the look on his face -a bored, somewhat tired expression-, he moved away his hand, heavily embarrassed. Hanamiya just laughed at him, adding he’d been acting unlike himself lately. He ignored it.

Although distant, Furuhashi was able to perfectly recall those times, and a single tear fell down his eyes. His brain kept bringing back all those times he’d previously shared with Hanamiya, and it seemed like it would go on for quite a while.

He recalled that short period of time after their rematch against Seirin. When Hanamiya told them he’d be leaving after them, and while everyone left, he decided to stay. Hanamiya had closed himself on the lockers, afraid that someone might see him on such a state, and so he didn’t notice Furuhashi had joined the lockers until someone muffled his hair, telling him that it was okay to cry.

And all those times Furuhashi wanted to confess Hanamiya how he felt towards him, but knowing him well, it was most likely as he would take it as a joke and laugh at him. And, when he finally got his feelings together and was brave enough to “confess”, he just gave him a short, yet heartwarming kiss, and said nothing. While Hanamiya remained indifferent towards him, it was something he never saw coming, and Furuhashi was ashamed with himself, as he hadn’t done it on a proper way.

“ _You know you’ll never be able to go back in time and fix it, don’t you_.”

Breathing heavily and heartbeats increasing, he felt his nose running as more tears fell down his face. He sobbed silently, hoping none of his relatives would notice him.

Those times when he and Hanamiya discussed about diverse books and his knowledge about certain authors was enough to outsmart Furuhashi, to the point he had to ask him on what he was talking about.

Or when they spent time together, enjoying each other’s company, was it studying or just hanging out together.

“ _You didn’t truly enjoy those moments. Neither of you did_.”

He remembered Hanamiya’s smile at their graduation. Unlike his cold, sharp grin, which he’d always show when things turned out to be as he wanted. It was a pure, shiny smile, a gentle one, as if he was thankful for something. It surprised everyone to see him like that, no matter how of a “good” person he was outside the basketball club.

Instead of just thanking him for those years and saying goodbye, Furuhashi hugged him, tightly, not willing to let him go, with his fingers running through Hanamiya’s black hair, gentle touch, entangling hairs around them. When he finally broke the hug, he just whispered “thanks” to him and kissed his forehead, and he couldn’t care less if people were looking at them.

Trembling hands, he grabbed the beds’ sheets and tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t. A vast majority of his memories regarding Hanamiya were being thrown back at him, and it was the worst moment for it to happen. He himself had triggered those memories while trying to forget about those previous events, after all.

“ _It was all your fault._ ”

He felt like puking, slowly becoming more anxious and tears kept streaming down his face, fast-paced heartbeats and breathing heavily, fear overtaking his whole body and he couldn’t do anything about it. He felt useless. He felt like everything he’d done before was pointless, and so would his future actions. Despair. He felt miserable.

He kept trying to take a deep breath, but it was impossible. His brain kept on bringing him back all those distant memories and he couldn’t concentrate on a simple task, nor calm himself down. And not just distant memories, but also many voices were echoing on his head, telling him how stupid their relationship was and that he’d never be able to get over it.

“I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know nothing about hospitals (even though i've been on one before but it was different), and as usual, I'll ask you to correct me if I made any mistakes, both in the hospital section and general grammar mistakes.
> 
> I feel like Satan right now.


	3. 返る (Back)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys finally meet and Hanamiya wakes up.
> 
> Which isn't good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years.
> 
> Feel free to correct me if I made any mistakes... (If someone wonders I've been myself to an ICU room but don't exactly remember them.)

It had been a week since that accident took place.

During their graduation, nobody thought they would ever meet again, nor they thought it would be something like that what would bring them together once again.

Now, they’re going to meet after almost five years without talking to each other, and it may be a long talk.

On the first place, we have Yamazaki. He was the first one to hear about the news and Hanamiya’s condition, and while he didn’t really cry at all, he still felt shocked. Of course, he tried to act happily in front of his roommates and his co-workers, but they eventually noticed something was going on. All he mentioned about the matter was that “something happened to one of his friends”, and he didn’t say anything else. He didn’t  feel like making people worry about him, specially when it had to do with something like an accident.

Then there’s Hara. It was Yamazaki, of course, the one that told him about the accident, while trying his best to not break down. Hara was naturally a cheerful individual, to the point he could get really annoying sometimes, but he also had a soft spot. After hearing the news, he became somewhat distant towards his band mates, to the point he even refused to play at a gig, claiming he felt mentally weak. Like Yamazaki, he didn’t mention anything about the accident.

On Seto’s case, it caught him off guard. Being heavily focused on his studies and exams, hearing that one of the people he looked up to had a serious accident seemed to be enough to end his motivation. He still got incredibly high grades on his previous exams, but some people around him commented on his sudden dull behavior. While he didn’t specify anything about the accident, he seemed to be the only one out of the group that actually mentioned the accident, but he didn’t say anything else as it made him uncomfortable.

The one that seemed to be the most affected of all the group was Furuhashi. Upon hearing the news, he became angry at himself, telling himself that he could’ve prevented the accident if they’d talked for longer. He was aware of how hard he was being with himself, but sadly, that was one of the traits he wasn’t able to change from himself. He later decided to take a small rest to soothe his mind, as he found himself unable to focus on his exams. It was one of the very few times he’d been unable to understand his feelings at all, and because of this, he didn’t feel like himself.

Still feeling regretful after the accident -which wasn’t his fault on the first place-, Furuhashi once dropped by at Hanamiya’s house. He was unable to imagine how Hanamiya’s mother must have felt when she heard about the accident, and decided to visit their residence. They shared a small talk which reminded Furuhashi of all the times he used to drop by Hanamiya’s house because he wanted Hanamiya to help him with upcoming exams. The woman was as charming and polite as usual, yet it was easily noticeable that she’d been heavily affected by the news and her son’s condition. Even though he wasn’t any good at comforting people, Furuhashi still told her that everything would be okay and, that soon, Hanamiya would be released from the hospital and thus, he would be back.

What a liar he’d been.

···

The temperature seemed far more stable than last week. The heat wave eventually moved from Tokyo to Saitama, even though the weather was almost as warm as back then. The city’s rotten smell still was there, and it looked like this summer would be longer than usual. Which was something bad, as Furuhashi disliked summer too.

The day before, he turned 24. Not only was he someone that didn’t like birthdays at all, but just recalling what happened the week before was enough to discourage him. Because he didn’t want his family to worry too much for him, he acted like nothing was wrong and attended a small party they made for him. His little sister noticed his pessimistic behavior and reminded him, yet again, that she would be there if he ever needed any reassurance.

Although he appreciated his little sisters’ help, it made Furuhashi feel bad with himself, as he still wasn’t brave enough to tell his family about his -and his friends’- current situation.

···

There was a certain place where the boys used to meet back then after school. Surprisingly, they hadn’t closed yet, not even after those long five years, and Seto was the one that asked for a table. It wasn’t the best place for them to meet, but they wanted to do something special as it had been five years since then.

The first one to arrive, was, of course, Furuhashi. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk at the moment, nor he wanted to join the meeting, but even he knew that would’ve been a bad choice. He waited for his former teammates outside the café, reading a novel Hanamiya had recommended him long ago.

Eventually, someone walked towards Furuhashi and asked him if he knew about someone named Hanamiya. As much as he wanted to, Furuhashi was unable to lie to them and ended up sharing a small talk with said person, who told him how much he loves Hanamiya’s works and how he felt towards the boys’ accident. Those words almost hit him home, and he acted as polite as he could towards that person. Somehow, he managed to sympathize with that person, and thanked them before they left.

Afterwards, he took a deep breath, the sunlight reflecting on his empty eyes and he couldn’t help but wonder what he would’ve doing if that accident hadn’t took place. Perhaps he would be studying for his next exam, or hanging out with one of his classmates. Who knows? Maybe he and the rest of the team, including Hanamiya, would’ve agreed to meet soon.

Furuhashi had been thinking too much about it lately, to the point it distracted himself from reality. He knew that Hanamiya’s accident belonged to the past and that now, the best he could do was waiting for him to wake up and help him regain his memories back, while at the same time, focusing on his career.

Again, Furuhashi was heavily immersed on his thoughts. That was it, until someone took off his glasses.

-You shouldn’t rub it in that much, Furu.

Even with that blurred vision of his, it’s fairly easy for Furuhashi to recognize that messy hairdo and that childish smile. Showing a faintly annoyed expression, he clicks his tongue, snatching his glasses from Hara’s hands.

-You sure haven’t changed a bit. - You can tell by the way he’s behaving that Furuhashi isn’t in the mood to engage into a conversation, as he still was distracted and wasn’t looking at Hara.

-Seems like your sense of humor still sucks, man. - Hara giggles at him. While he still remains as naive and simple-minded as he was back in high school, Furuhashi can perceive that something about him has changed. - Y'should stop worrying that much.

Furuhashi can’t help but sigh. He felt like as if he was exaggerating, but that situation really was putting way too many stress on him. He probably wouldn’t be able to handle both his career and Hanamiya’s condition at all, and had thought about giving up his career. But that would be such a stupid thing to do, specially coming from him.

Just before he can say anything, Hara smiles at him and pats his shoulder, with such warmth that it helps Furuhashi to calm down.

-There’s nothing to worry about, Furu. - Hara then leans against the wall, and Furuhashi wonders why he behaves on such a quiet, charming way. - Hana-chan will be alright. I’m sure those doctors know their shit.

Furuhashi sits back near the table, thinking about a beverage he could order. His mind, still messy and turbulent, doesn’t prevent him from behaving like the apathetic individual he usually is, and he manages to relax a little. Maybe he did so thanks to Hara’s words, or maybe because he felt like he really had to calm down.

Barely a minute later, Yamazaki shows up. He’s exhausted, gasping and trying to recover some stamina. Who knows why he showed up like that, but it’s mostly like as he’d met Hara before and the boy decided to play a prank on him. For Furuhashi, seems like that’s what happened. They truly haven’t changed at all; Hara still plays dumb pranks on Yamazaki and the red-haired kid keeps getting angry for nothing.

-H-Hara, you fucking brat… - He stops near the boys’ table, taking a deep breath, pissed off at the fact that he fell for such a stupid prank. Maybe he was the most naive out of all the group. His gaze averts towards Furuhashi, who doesn’t seem too interested. - Thought you wouldn’t come. How’re you?

-Better than last week, I guess. - Furuhashi’s voice is sharp. As always, he isn’t putting too much interest on their ongoing conversation.

Furuhashi breaks eye contact. Not that he’s ever been any good at it. His behavior, colder than usual, showing barely any empathy towards his former teammates, only manages to annoy him more than he’s already, and all Yamazaki can do is to frown at both Furuhashi and Hara and hold his rage.

-I see… - He titters, tapping his fingers against the table, and even though summer barely began Yamazaki already wants it to be over. The waiter hasn’t attended them yet. - If anything, does someone know if Seto will join soon?

Hara walks up to him. Who wonders what he’ll try to do this time. Maybe another dumb prank of his, or just something that will manage to irk Yamazaki as usual. Again, Furuhashi doesn’t even bother to pay attention at whatever he’s gonna do.

Hara just ends up pouting, and while half of his face is covered by that mess of hair he refers to as “bangs”, he seems slightly agitated. Just why in the world is he angry now, Yamazaki asks himself, right before Hara can pick up his phone and check something.

-Well, - Hara mutters, briefly checking the phone for a couple seconds then leaving it on the table, and raises his voice - Taro-chan said he’d decided to arrive to the hospital earlier, for whatever reason. How rude from him.

Still, the waiter hasn’t attended them yet. Where could he be? Maybe he’d decided to ignore the boys, or maybe there wasn’t anyone at the place right now. Or perhaps he’s just busy cleaning, as some yelling can be heard from inside the place. Along it, the cicadas’ song seems to increase, which marked the beginning of July.

They were wasting their time. At least, that’s how Furuhashi felt like. Adjusting his glasses, he stood up, tired of waiting and he picked up a small bouquet he’d bought before, filled with carefully chosen flowers, each one with an unique meaning and carrying a small amount of guilt. Yes, as much as he wanted to stop doing so, Furuhashi still blamed himself because of the accident.

Yamazaki peeked at the bouquet for a moment. It didn’t really feature a vast variety of flowers, and red and white seemed to be the predominant colors. Red and white carnations mixed with tiny white clovers, gardenia and white poppies, red roses and finally, a red chrysanthemum that wasn’t easily noticeable. Yamazaki had no clue on said flowers’ meanings, nor he would bother to ask, but he could tell that Furuhashi had put some thought when choosing them.

-Hey, Yamazaki! - Furuhashi’s deadpan voice struck him and Yamazaki startled. Seemed like they would meet at the hospital earlier than expected.

The worst part about this is that they would have to walk to the hospital, as Furuhashi didn’t felt like driving that day. It sure would be a long walk, which frustrated both Yamazaki and Hara.

···

Going back to the hospital barely did anything but make Furuhashi feel even guiltier than he already was. It brought him bad memories, not only about Hanamiya but now from personal issues he’d rather forget. It seemed kinda ironic that, the one that used to be the group’s most quiet individual, was now the one that worried the most. Of course, Furuhashi had a reason to do so.

Hara kept telling him to keep calm, but it didn’t seem to work. Once they arrived to the hospital, it was no surprise the group was exhausted; not only it was a long walk, but the temperatures seemed to slowly raise as yet another heat wave got closer to the town. They’re standing in front of the main building and there’s barely anyone around, but a doctor typing something down on the corner.

A worn-out Yamazaki decides to sit on a bench near the buildings’ door, taking a deep breath, when he inhaled a small amount of smoke. Yamazaki didn’t bother to check if there was someone besides him on the bench and became slightly annoyed with himself, frowning.

-Hey, drop that cigar, won’t-

When Yamazaki turned his head to gaze at whoever was sitting next to him, he raised his eyebrows, surprised. Even though it wasn’t totally unexpected.  
-You sure haven’t changed at all, Hiroshi. - Holding a small, scattered cigarette between his fingers, Seto looked at the red-haired man, small dark bags under his eyes, now looking more like his age.

Yamazaki looked away, still frowning, wondering why he looked so composed. Before he can say anything, Hara walks up to them, removing some sweat from his chin. Unlike Yamazaki, he isn’t surprised at all when seeing Seto, but there’s something he’d like to ask.

-Taro-chan, - he says, harsh voice as he raises his volume, fixing his hidden, piercing gaze on the man’s cigar - why’re you smoking? That shit’s bad.

-And I know. Just that… - He throws the cigarette at the floor, crushing it under the weight of his feet, and gazes at Furuhashi, who’s checking something on his phone. Seto can’t help but feel bad for him, as Furuhashi again is acting on a distant way towards them, not feeling like sharing a conversation. - I had to do something until the doctor came.

Seto had arrived too early at the building and was totally expecting one of the doctors to come up to him and tell him to wait outside. The doctor, however, didn’t guarantee that Hanamiya would wake up that day, but it was mostly like he would, as they speculated it would take him a week to do so. Furuhashi was the one that believed that his beloved friend would wake up on a week, though, and if it took him more time to wake up, he would start to feel worried.

That’s how worried he was, and he prayed so that after Hanamiya woke up, his condition hadn’t worsened too much and he could go back to his daily life and chores as soon as possible. And, if something happened to him, no matter how trifling, Furuhashi would try and help Hanamiya as much as he could, without asking for anything in return. As for the others, they may try and help too, but they already know about a certain person that’s willing to do anything for Hanamiya.

Taking a deep breath, Seto stands up, cracking his knuckles and gazes at the rest of the group, as if he was trying to say something to them. While Yamazaki and Hara didn’t got the message, Furuhashi nodded at him, then making his way to the building.

-What the hell, Seto? What did you just-

Clearing his throat, Seto looks up to the building, and Hara seems to get the message, while Yamazaki needs yet another explanation. Yes, none of them had changed at all, and it was easily noticeable on the way they behaved. They seemed more mature than before, but aside from that, they still were the same boys they were back then in high school.

-Jesus, Zaki, didn’t you see that? - Hara pouts, grabbing the red-haired boy by his wrist as they walked behind Seto, with such strength it looked like he didn’t want to let Yamazaki go. - Taro-chan wants us to get going. I think he’s got a good feeling about this.

···

It’s almost surprising that there’s barely anybody besides them at the hospital, hence why the halls seem emptier than usual. Not that the hospital is usually crowded, as there are far more hospitals within the area and people don’t seem to remember that hospital’s direction.

To say the truth, Hara felt uncomfortable with such silence. Being used to play in front of crowded audiences, the sound of people cheering for him and his band and asking for more songs, and the overwhelming sounds of them playing only made him feel weird. He hadn’t been to such a silent place in months and didn’t knew how to react. So he decided to not react at all, following his former teammates to the ICU room.

On the other side, Furuhashi can’t help but glance at the bright, sick teal green tone of the nurses and patients’ clothes. Nor that he hates the color, but does it remind him of that old uniform he used to wear back then, when he played on Kirisaki Daiichi’s basketball club. He sits near the room’s door, hoping either a doctor or a nurse would reveal something about Hanamiya’s condition as soon as possible, looking at the floor and not willing to do eye contact nor to talk with any of his friends.

The boys can’t help but worry about him, and now it’s Seto the one that’s comforting him, by patting his back and telling him that there’s no way it’ll get worse. Furuhashi knows that he should be taking care of himself, like the responsible person he is, and that he should already know that, as worse as things can get, they’ll have a happy ending, no matter how much he denies it. He’d like to believe it, but deep inside he’s a rather insecure individual and it’s one of those many weaknesses he hates to show.

There was no way they would start a conversation. Not even Hara, who was the outgoing kind of person, had thought about talking at the moment. Either his friends would ignore him or Yamazaki would tell him to shut up, claiming it was best to remain silent.

As time slowly advanced, they heard the grating sounds of the machines’ beeps, along a group of doctors and nurses talking and making sure everything was alright. While only five minutes had passed since they arrived at the ICU rooms’ hall, it felt like it’d been an hour. Specially for Yamazaki, who still had little-to-no patience and was willing to call any of the nurses if they had to wait any longer.

Meanwhile, Furuhashi glanced at the bouquet he’d brought with himself. It carried a special meaning he wouldn’t want to explain, as it would sound weird coming from someone like him, and once Hanamiya was moved into his own room, he would leave said bouquet on the room, along a small note. Hara, on his side, scrolled down some photos he took from the boys’ graduation and was hit with heavy nostalgic vibes. Sure, they weren’t the best group of people out there, but they sure got along with each other.

When they’re least expecting it, one of the nurses -the very same one that attended Furuhashi last week- opens the door, holding some sheets with diverse analyses written on them.

As the boys turn to her -Hara telling himself that she’s got some nice legs-, she clears her throat.

···

His fingers trembled, almost being unable to feel his hands.

“As expected, Hanamiya-san did wake up after all.”

His heart pounded with such strength, as if it would break out of his chest at any time, his cold fingertips grazing the back of his neck and his hair, then removing his hand from his neck shortly afterwards.

“He seems stable, and at the same time, he’s rather confused. Right now he’s just flexing his fingers and muttering things to himself, but we firmly believe he’ll do alright during his recovery.”

No, no. Not a single negative thought right now. All that was left was to pray so, at least, Hanamiya managed to recognize him. Furuhashi tried to keep calm before the situation in front of him, but even for him it was too much.

He glanced at the plain, beige walls of the room, the beeping sound of the machine didn’t seem to bother him at all. Even though he’d been to a hospital before, it was the first time he saw one of those ICU rooms, and he was unsure on how to feel. He couldn’t help but stare at the machines and the cables placed alongside the bed and swallowed, his hands still trembling.

It all felt so surreal, Furuhashi felt like he could wake up at any moment. But no, that wasn’t a dream. It was something that was happening right now, at that very moment, and he couldn’t go back. His friends were waiting for him at the hall. They would’ve entered too, but they came to the conclussion that Furuhashi should be the one entering first.

One of the nurses was checking on Hanamiya, trying to get the boy to talk or improve his motor response, all of this while typing down his improvements. “GCS 9 = E4 V3 M2 at 03:18PM”, it said. Furuhashi takes a deep breath, trying to stop his hands from trembling as he looks at the bedridden boy.

His skin is paler than usual, an abnormal, sick-white tone, his long, dark hair spread over the pillow. Slightly bloodshot eyes blinking rapidly and muttering something with those dry, thin lips of his. Seems like he lost quite an amount of weight, as his collarbones can be seen at first sight and he looked wasted away. By looking at him, a shiver runs down Furuhashi’s spine and he knows he should look away from him, but he’s still heavily worried for his friend.

The nurses are all paying close attention to the boys’ vitals and his state, and Furuhashi feels like there isn’t much to do but to look at his friend and talk to any of the nurses. So he carefully leaves the bouquet on the chair, pretending to leave afterwards without saying anything, when Hanamiya’s muttering intensifies and he’s able to articulate a few words.

-W-Where…

All the gazes are now directed towards Hanamiya, and Furuhashi decides to stay on the room for a bit longer, walking towards the bed, as close as he can be. Raising his eyebrows, his expression softens and he grabs the beds’ corners, placing himself right beside his friend. He’s aware that it’s something rude to do in front of those nurses, yet, surprisingly, none of them points out his behavior.

The boy looks around the room, feeling an intense, uncomfortable weight against his back and limbs and he can do nothing but to slightly flex his left arm and both his wrists. One of the doctors begins to type something down and Hanamiya slowly turns his neck, now looking at Furuhashi.

Skipping a heartbeat, it seems like as if the boys’ dark eyes have been filled with a small ounce of emotion. They don’t make eye contact at all, but for Furuhashi it felt like they did. He prays so everything is alright, until Hanamiya breathes again, wondering why his entire body hurts so much.

-…You.

Furuhashi is trying his best to keep calm and not break down. He should be happy because, after one week, his friend finally woke up from a coma, but he feels like as if he’s lifting the weight of the entire world.

-There’s nothing you should worry about, Hanamiya. I- No, we’re here.

Some of the nurses now withdraw from the beds’ sides, leaving Furuhashi and the doctor watching over the boy. He doesn’t know why, but Furuhashi gets a bad feeling from all of this, overwhelmed by the room’s incredible pressure.  
Hanamiya’s eyes are now fixed on Furuhashi’s and he mutters a few things before articulating yet another sentence.

Maybe it wouldn’t be good news like they thought. 

-…are… W-Who are you?

Maybe praying had been useless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the flower meanings (as far as I know!):  
> -Red carnation: (Deep) romantic love  
> -White carnation: Pure love  
> -White clover: Promise  
> -Gardenia: Sweet love  
> -White poppy: Peace  
> -Red roses: True love  
> -Red chrysanthemum: Love


	4. ノート (Notebook)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep inside, Furuhashi is still worried for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's back, after almost 3 months without updating.

Furuhashi sat on the small plastic chair near the window, his cold fingertips pressed against each other, almost like as if he was praying. And maybe he was.

Because when he recalled the words the doctor had told them the day before, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was all a dream. And if it was, he’d love to wake up right now, and to forget about everything that happened. To just go back to his daily life without any worries.

But, as much as he wanted it to be, it wasn’t a dream. No. It was something that was happening right in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t do anything to avoid it, nor he could do anything to improve Hanamiya’s condition.

The doctor, who just came back from talking with Hanamiya’s mother, noticed Furuhashis’ strange behavior and walked up to him, not without checking Hanamiya’s status before. He wasn’t doing any better than before, yet the doctors hoped he would improve within the next week.

-Don’t you worry, kid - Furuhashi raised his head upon the doctors’ voice and sighed, trying his best to keep calm. - Even if you don’t think so, your friend will have a happy ending.

Furuhashi silently nodded at him and lowered his head again, not willing to do any eye contact. Because, even if he tried to think of a happy ending, he just couldn’t. He wasn’t exactly someone negative, nor a pessimist, but he was afraid that Hanamiya wouldn’t recall anything regarding his friends or his relatives. And it had been only one day, but he was already half-devastated by what happened the day before.

He still didn’t knew how Hanamiya’s mother reacted towards all of this, nor he wanted to know. Of course, he wouldn’t compare himself, someone that had just been Hanamiya’s friend for more than three years, with a woman that had almost devoted her entire life to her son so he could live a normal one. It didn’t make him feel worthless, but it made him feel highly self-centered, which he wasn’t.

Furuhashi then stood up, his back hurt and a tired expression, darker eyes than usual, a tense stance, and the doctor noticed this by just gazing at him. Furuhashi was well-known because of his apathetic demeanor and the fact that he showed little-to-no emotions, so not many people could tell what was he thinking at any given moment. The doctor was one of them, and he’d noticed on Furuhashis’ dark eyes that he was worrying more than he thought.

-Kojiro, was it? - Said man turned to him, taking a deep breath and trying to relieve his stress. The doctor’s expression was serene, as if he didn’t have to worry about anything or had no concerns, and for Furuhashi, it was almost impossible to believe that such a person could work at a hospital. - I’ll tell you one thing, and it’s that you’re stressing too much over this.

Frowning, Furuhashi looked at the doctor.  _Too much?_  That man obviously didn’t knew what was going on, nor he’d put himself on either his or Hanamiyas’ mother’s place. 

Still, he was right. Furuhashi wasn’t one to worry too much over things, even if those things were related to his friends or relatives. Unless it was something that actually bothered him, he’d usually ignore it. He wasn’t someone that actually cared about other people’s lifes, unless those people were close to him.

He wasn’t able to describe his feelings right now. He still was the same quiet, eerie-looking individual everyone knew, yet he was feeling confused. He was angry at himself, because he could’ve perfectly avoided that accident. Yet, even he could admit that maybe he was being rather exaggerated towards the whole issue.

However, none of these thoughts would retain him from asking the doctor.

-There’s still something I’d like to know - he hesitated for a second as he saw Hanamiya’s mother join the room, and it distracted him a bit. He still was as clueless as he was back then, five years ago, and he couldn’t change that. - How long will it take Hanamiya to recover from his wounds?

-Makoto will probably need to stay here for 5 weeks - his mother stated, right when the doctor was about to speak up, and caressed her sons’ head. While Hanamiya was awake, he didn’t seem to be really bothered by this, and instead looked around the entire room, somewhat confused. - His wounds aren’t really severe, so he’ll probably need around a month to recover. Perhaps something between 4 or 5 weeks, right, doctor?

Cracking a tiny smile at her, the doctor nodded. Hanamiya had never told Furuhashi before that his mother knew about medicine, yet he’d hinted it. Furuhashi’s just too clueless to notice those small details.

-Right, miss. Something between 4 and 5 weeks is how long he’ll need to recover - He picked up a bunch of sheets filled up with many data and analyses, and it somehow reminded Furuhashi of Hanamiya’s team analyses, which he’d actually spent lots of time working on. He wondered if Hanamiya kept one of them.

Speaking about Hanamiya, he wasn’t talking at all. Which was understandable, since he woke up from a coma the day before and he’s still disoriented. Yet Furuhashi still wondered how he was supposed to act around Hanamiya because of his current condition. He would probably end up leaving it to Hanamiya’s mother, since she was the one that had talked with the doctor before.

If anything, Furuhashi knew he would need to be careful. It was one of those times when he wished he’d studied a medicine-related career instead of Nutrition. Not that he felt useless, but he just didn’t knew what he was supposed to do. Right now, he felt like Yamazaki when the entire team was planning some kind of scheme without him. Except that he could keep calm (in his case, not show any feelings) for most of the time.

Hanamiya’s mother, caring like nobody else, noticed Furuhashis’ uneasiness and walked up to him. She patted his shoulder while carrying a peaceful, rather happy expression, then turned back to her son, lowering her eyes and her features slightly turning cold as she approached him.

-I can promise you that he’ll be fine. This is not something you should neither rush nor take too lightly. We just need to go at our own pace, and we’ll get the best ending - For Furuhashi, it felt like as if she wanted to cry and was just hiding her emotions. Reality, as always, was far different from that.

Which reminded him of his own motto. “Floating clouds and flowing water”.

-Makoto - said boy had already turned his head towards her as soon as she’d muttered to him. She caressed his hand, and its warmth kinda made Hanamiya relax -, you may refer to me as Aiko. I’m just here to help you, alright?

Hanamiya silently nodded at her, as if he’d understood what she’d just said. He looked lost, unsure of what was happening. He only knew there was a group of people talking, probably about him, and a woman he barely knew, yet she looked kind (and somewhat reliable) for him. Said woman had promised herself that she would help her son as much as possible, just so he could go back to his usual life.

Still unsure of what to do, Furuhashi just hoped for the best.

···

After almost three weeks, Hanamiya had managed to recall a few memories, which included some of his favorite authors and his adress, plus he’d been able to recall who he was and more data about himself. Nurses commented on how nicely he was recovering (he looks much healthier now, although one of them thinks he should eat some more), and the doctor was confident with his analyses.

“His brain damage wasn’t severe either, yet he’ll need at least one or two months to regain most of his memories. If anything, don’t force him to, since it could make it worse for him to remember.”

The boys had visited Hanamiya for almost every day (except for Seto, who wanted to focus on his studies, yet he still took small breaks so he could talk to Hanamiya for a bit). Furuhashi had almost left his studies just to spend some time with his beloved, hoping he’d recall his name at any given moment. He was aware of the fact that it wouldn’t happen immediately, no matter how much he wished for it.

Hanamiya’s mother had talked with the doctor a few times and had agreed on a method that would probably work. She still hadn’t met any therapist that could help with her sons’ condition, so they’d had to endure with her method for now.

-So - he mutters, holding a small notebook with both of his hands. While his leg was taking quick to recover (one of the nurses mentioned that he’d be able to stand up soon), he still had problems when moving his right arm -, I just have to write whatever I recall?

-That’s right. I don’t know about any therapist specialized on your condition, though, so this is all I can do for you now.

For a short span of time, Hanamiya saw a sense of insecurity on her eyes, as if she wasn’t doing the right thing. While he had no clue about her, nor he knew why she was helping him that much, he suddenly had the urge to tell her that she was doing her best, and it was enough.

She’d been watching over him ever since he was brought to the hospital, and because of the fact that she used to work as a nurse (back then, where Hanamiya’s parents were still married), she’d been helping a bit.

There was something about that woman that seemed familiar to Hanamiya, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. All he knew at the moment was that he’s supposed to write down anything he recalls on a tiny notebook. Which seems like something quite simple for both him and Yamazaki, which also happened to be on that room. 

The red-haired boy had been reading about amnesia just so he could understand what Hanamiya was going through, and while he still was insecure about it, he’d grasped the basics.

-Just out of curiosity, but, how’s that supposed to help him? - Yamazaki left some flowers on the vase near the window, then turned back to the doctor and Hanamiya’s mother. He felt kind of dumb after making that question, which was something about him that hadn’t changed at all through the years. - Like, if he doesn’t write them down, he’ll forget them or something?

Maybe Yamazaki wasn’t as dumb as he thought he was.

They’d just got distracted for a second and Hanamiya had already written on the notebook. Both Yamazaki and Hara thought that his intelligence had to do with how long it would take him to recall things and such, so they both were relieved by this, yet it was far away from the truth.

Hanamiya’s mother hadn’t told them yet, since she’d preferred them to not worry too much about him.

-Something like that - the woman replied, walking towards her son, who looked at her with a child-like gaze that managed to surprise her, to the point she felt somewhat guilty. - Makoto, would you let me see what you’ve written, please?

He nodded at her, breathing softly and looking much calmer than usual. Maybe it was because he’d gotten used to her and his friends’ visits, and while he yet had to remember them, he felt like he could trust them. Which, at the same time, was something new (and strange) for him. Not only he felt like he could trust those people, but he also felt like as if he was somehow related to them.

Hanamiya handles her the notebook, lying back on the stretcher, and the only pain he had to worry about was the one coming from his right arm. While the doctors hadn’t told him whether he should start walking or not, he was half-convinced that it would happen sometime soon.

His handwriting was still as clean as always.

“Was reading a book published by Yoko Ogawa, named ‘The Housekeeper and the Professor’ at a library, which was quite small, as if it belonged to a longer building. Someone had told me to read that book minutes before, and I’d accepted. I don’t remember the exact reason as why I’d accepted, thought.”

His mother could perfectly tell who was that person, yet chose to not tell him. For some reason, whether they talked, Furuhashi would just tell him about books and authors and nothing else. So far he’d never mentioned anything regarding them being classmates, nor he’d asked Hanamiya to refer to him by a certain name, while the others had.

It really was none of her business, and maybe there was a reason as why Furuhashi had chosen to behave like that. So she hadn’t asked him yet about it.

She gave the notebook to Yamazaki, which frowned upon the paragraph, as if he hadn’t understood anything. He  _did_ , however.

-…I know it’s important that Hanamiya starts recalling things and stuff but - he placed the book between Hanamiya’s hands, and the smaller man stared as Yamazaki sat on a tiny chair near the stretcher, closing the notebook with his left hand -, I don’t really think such a small detail is  _important_.

Hanamiya’s mother hesitated for a second, then walked up to him, rather surprised. It reminded her of how a curious Hanamiya kept asking even the silliest question when he was little.

-Yamazaki-kun, even if you don’t think so, small details are important too - the doctor has left to write down some analyses, and she turns to Hanamiya, who kept writing on the notebook as soon as he got it back. Yamazaki was confused once again. - By the way, remember what you used to do before you got here?

-It was something related to books, I think - Hanamiya shaked his head. -Perhaps I was an author?

-Y-Yeah! - Yamazaki yelled right before Hanamiya’s mother could say anything, and he stood up, smiling. - And your writings are stunning, man! They’re so good, I sometimes have trouble trying to understand what’s going on.

Somehow, this lifted a tiny smile on Hanamiya’s face, along a small cackle. It was the first time Hanamiya had laughed ever since he was brought to the hospital, and little tears formed on his mother’s eyes as soon as she heard his cackle. Hanamiya kept that smile for a while, and he soon recalled yet another memory.

If Furuhashi had been there, he’d probably be convinced that yes, Hanamiya would get the happiest of endings. Yet he was busy with some late exams and hadn’t visited him in a few days.

-If you really didn’t understand anything - he chuckled, and he felt like as if any ounce of pain he felt had vanished -, then my writings must’ve been good.

···

The month was almost over, and Furuhashi had slowly realized how much he was worrying about Hanamiya. Because of all the messages and photos he’d gotten from his friends and Hanamiya’s mother, he now truly believed that Hanamiya would get a happy ending. Yet he wasn’t so sure at all, since it all seemed too quiet and happy all of the sudden.

Somehow, he and Hara happened to be on the same place. A park that was near their old school, Kirisaki Daiichi High, one of Tokyo’s most well-known schools, famous between rich and important families. It was a place they used to visit a lot after exams, since they got to rest and forget about their issues.

There was nobody but them hanging out there. Hara had the urge to make a bad joke about dating, yet it would feel like as if he was suddenly 17 years old again and it would’ve been weird. Furuhashi wouldn’t mind it, though, yet he’d ignore Hara if it happened.

-So - Hara left a bag with drumsticks on a bench close to him, chewing gum as usual, and he watched (could he?) as Furuhashi sat on the bench. He’d just finished some important exams, yet summer break for him didn’t start until August 4th -, you’d visited Hana-chan yesterday, right?

Furuhashi nodded at him, looking through a bunch of pictures he’d saved on his phone. The earlier ones were pictures he’d took of him and Hanamiya the day before, when he decided to take a break and visit him after almost one week.

The crow-haired man could be seen smiling, as if none of his fractures hurt anymore (his arm was still recovering, though). Looking far healthier than before, bright olive eyes and long, dark hair he’d end up cutting soon or later because his mother would ask him to. There was a picture of him standing next to Furuhashi, who actually made it to 1'90cm, and it was hard to tell if Hanamiya had actually grown up since high school.

-I did - Furuhashi half-smiled as he turned off his phone, lying back on the bench, and while he was aware of the fact that Hanamiya hadn’t recalled his name yet, he was proud of how much he’d recovered. - The doctor said that next week he’ll probably be released from the hospital, plus, he’ll start attending a therapist soon.

-I see. Then, his mum must be really happy, right, Furu?

Said man lowered his head, the warm breeze of summer caressing his face and many cicadas singing all over the place. He didn’t have a proper answer for that question, yet he recalled Hanamiya’s mother looking rather cheerful the day before.

-Honestly, I can’t exactly tell you how happy she was, but - he gazed at Hara, who was standing next to the bench, looking at some messages on his phone, and he hadn’t noticed that Furuhashi was looking at him -, sometimes, I feel like as if he’s about to remember us.

-Really? - Hara pops a bubble, smirking, and quickly sits besides his friend. Furuhashi now stops looking at him and Hara pouts at him, slightly annoyed.

-So far he’s recalled his profession, his adress and many things about himself. Plus, sometimes he remembers things that happened to him during school and even before that - His smile vanishes all of the sudden, and Hara isn’t that surprised. - Yet, he can’t remember our names. He’d talked about people that looked like us, so I guess that-

-He remembers us, but he doesn’t remember us? That’s what you mean?

Really, Hara can be smart at times. Except when it has to do with logarithms. Furuhashi liftes up his glasses, surprised at the fact that Hara actually put it into words, and looks at his phone again. No messages this time, and it’s getting kind of late, so he should get going.

Yet he wants to keep talking with Hara, since it feels like as if they were high-schoolers again, and he isn’t having a bad time when talking to him, unlike most of the time.

-Anyway, Furu, - he pops another bubble, picking up his bag and stands up, and Furuhashi thinks he’s about to go back to his floor, but he’s wrong - I have another question, and this one’s the last.

-Tell me.

-So, if Hana-chan still doesn’t remember about his mum or his childhood - he scratches his hair, and Furuhashi immediately knows he isn’t going to ask something stupid this time -, how’s it gonna work once he’s back home?

Furuhashi hadn’t thought about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Housekeeper and the Professor' is a book about a mathematician that, because of brain damage, can only keep 80 minutes of memories, and shares the beauty of equations with a housekeeper and her son, which he refers to as "Root".
> 
> I haven't read it myself, but it's the kind of book Hanamiya would probably enjoy.
> 
> (Plus, I feel like 10 chapters are a little too much for this kind of fic, so I'll leave it in ? chapters until I decide.)


	5. ヤマ (Yama)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya recalls Yamazaki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, feel free to tell me about possible grammar mistakes (and leave a comment if you liked it).

Practice at Kirisaki Daiichi’s basketball club was something close to Hell. If it could be called “practice” at all.

Because even the captain, who also happened to be the team’s coach (he was directing the team) was tired. Dripping sweat and catching his breath, he became sleepier as time passed, so practice would soon be over.

A boy walked up to him. Somewhat taller than him, his eyes possessed an undescriptable void and he carried a little towel with him. He too was tired, and the captain, with crow-like hair and rather skinny, turned to him, removing some sweat from his chin. He’d asked his teammates to take a 5-minute rest before, and the clock marked 19:26, half an hour earlier than usual.

-Here - the dark-eyed boy offered him the towel, and the captain picked it up without saying anything, giving the boy a tiny smile. - You’ve finished practice earlier than usual, Hanamiya.

Hanamiya (that’s how the captain was called) grabbed the towel from his teammate and removed some sweat from his forehead, taking a deep breath afterwards. He was tired, and it was understandable. Because not only he had to coach an entire team himself, but he also had to attend the Disciplinary Commitee many times a week. And there was something else, but he didn’t recall it at all.

-Just thought that you guys would need to focus on your exams.

And, unlike most of the time, he was speaking the truth. He’d been gifted with a terrifying intelect and because of this, it was fairly easy for him to pass his exams, yet he’d noticed that some of his teammates were struggling with them, specially a certain second year.

It caught his attention that said person, a tall, red-haired boy with little-to-no patience (sometimes Hanamiya thought that he had anger issues), began packing up as soon as Hanamiya told them to rest. He’d been doing that for a while now, and some of his classmates had commented on how stressed he’d been lately. Something which Hanamiya had already noticed long ago.

Said boy walked up to his captain, tired green eyes and carrying more weight than he should. Hanamiya had already told him many times before, yet he kept asking for permission in order to leave earlier. He rolled his eyes upon the teen and sighed, giving back the towel to his teammate, and looks at him.

-You should already know that you can skip practice if you want to focus on school, Yama - he clicks his tongue, biting his thumb afterwards and hoping that the redhead was smart enough to understand him. - If anything, do as you want. Just don’t put basketball before school, and don’t be too hard on yourself.

As harsh as he could be, Hanamiya actually did care for his teammates. Even if he didn’t show it too often.

-Alright, but, uh, captain - he frowned, pouting at the same time, and Hanamiya could tell straight away that he was angry yet again, which wasn’t anything strange on him -, my surname’s Yamazaki, not Yama. Just in case you weren’t aware.

-Yeah, whatever - shaking his arms, Hanamiya goes to practice, and he can almost hear Yamazaki (yes, that’s how he was called) sighing as he left the gym.

It wasn’t the first time something like that happened, specially with Yamazaki, and the fact that Hanamiya hadn’t complained about it at any moment almost felt surreal, both for him and his teammates. After all, Hanamiya was a more patient person than many people thought.

···

Yamazaki woke up to a dazzling sun upon his eyes, squeezing his eyes upon the burning sensation and letting out a loud yawn as he stretches his eyes, thus waking up. Last night, he fell asleep without noticing, while playing games against one of his roommates, and he’s shocked when he looks at the clock.

 _11:39AM_.

He almost yells at this, jumping from his bed and picking up some fresh clothes to put on. Since he usually wakes up between 8-9AM (it has always been hard for him to sleep), no wonder why he’s being so exaggerated over this. He almost trips over dirty clothes and games scattered all around the floor, and he hasn’t had breakfast yet, but that isn’t what worries him the most now.

It wasn’t just the sunlight what woke him up, but he’d received a little message before. Half-naked, he sat on the sofa, reading it all over again. Even though he’d slept for almost 9 hours this time (he usually sleeps for 5-6 hours), he felt sleepier than usual and he knew that it wasn’t only related to his terrible sleep schedule.

The redhead blinks at his phone, trying to focus on the message and he yawns again. Hell, it must be important.

“Something happened to Hanamiya last night, and you might be interested.”

It was from Seto, who also told him to arrive at the hospital as soon as he could. What did just happen now? Yamazaki was already struggling with his floors’ rental and now one of his former teammates, which he’d almost forgot over the course of five years, became amnesiac after some weird accident.

Out of curiosity, he decided to ask.  _Better be some decent news this time_ , he thought to himself, picking up a dirty t-shirt from the floor, and aside from visiting Hanamiya once again, he didn’t know what to do.

“I can’t exactly explain what happened, but it seems like he had a dream related to our former basketball team and he mentioned you. He might’ve recalled you, but that’s only what I think.”

Yamazaki immediately raised his eyebrows upon this, reading that last sentence all over again. He didn’t knew exactly how to react, because on the first place, he claimed that the entire diary thing (Hanamiya was supposed to write down anything he recalled as soon as he recalled it) was stupid and he really didn’t understand the whole amnesia thing.

All he knew was that Hanamiya had forgotten lots of stuff and his family and friends were supposed to help him recall stuff, and nothing else. He hadn’t bothered to research on the many different kinds of amnesia, not only because he was lazy, but he really didn’t have the time to do it.

At the same time, Yamazaki thought about something. It sounded kind of dumb, even for himself, but all he wanted to do was to help and that was the closest thing to a suggestion he could make at the moment. Even if Seto (and Hanamiya’s therapist, if he had any) denied it, he would’ve tried, and there’s nothing wrong with trying.

At least, that’s what he thinks.

···

“the thing is,”

“if we want hanamiya to recall about us and the basketball club and stuff alike, once he’s recovered and he’s back home, one of us should like, take him on a ride and show him our old school and things alike, don’t you think?”

Yamazaki probably had the worst time of his life trying to put his idea into words. He wondered if Seto had either laughed at his idea or just ignored it.

Yes, he was somewhat jealous of Hanamiya, because that midget had sold about a million books as for today (or was it 2 million?) and he’d always been incredibly talented at writing. Meanwhile, Yamazaki needed lots of help for his own projects, and if he tried his best himself, he still couldn’t reach a 70.

Hanamiya had always excelled at everything without trying too hard, while Yamazaki kept doing his best and wasn’t as half as good as that midget.

It wasn’t the time to think about that, thought, as he and Seto were discussing about Yamazaki’s sudden idea (well, Seto was taking his time to analyze Yamazaki’s idea, which was taking him longer than expected). Seto had been waiting for him outside Hanamiya’s room, as he didn’t want to spoil anything to said man.

-I’ll be honest with you - he sat on a bench near Hanamiya’s room, and the plastic green colour of the bench slightly reminded him of his old team. - It’s true that your idea seems kind of stupid, and perhaps you haven’t thought too much about it. But, personally, I think it could work, even if it has a low chance of doing so.

Yamazaki didn’t knew how to react towards that. In fact, he never knew what to say before Seto and Hanamiya’s opinions, specially if they had to do anything with him. He’d understood what Seto told him just now, yet he wasn’t able to come up with a response that didn’t sound any stupid. The redhead had never understood either Seto or Hanamiya’s personalities at all, perhaps because of their intellect.

He checked the time. 12:26AM. It feels like as if he’d just woke up five minutes ago and someone dragged him to the hospital, when he chose to call Seto instead so he could pick him up. Yamazaki then sighed, and while he actually wanted to know what had happened with Hanamiya this time, he just wanted to leave and eat soon.

He just hoped that Seto wasn’t lying to him and Hanamiya would refer to him by that stupid nickname once again.

-And I guess you won’t be doing that - he frowns, sharp green eyes and a slightly composed expression.

Seto breaks eye contact and adjusts his necktie, and Yamazaki wonders why he was dressing like that. August is pretty close and Seto’s wearing long sleeves, while Yamazaki’s wearing an old-looking t-shirt with some holes on it.

Really, he should stop focusing on small details like that. Then he recalls what Hanamiya’s mother mentioned the other day; that small details are important too, even as much as big details are. He doesn’t fully realize what it means, thought, but it’s probably far more than Hanamiya’s memories.

-I’d like to, but it’s my last year on this career and I would like to focus on my studies.

Five or six years ago, Yamazaki would’ve thrown a tantrum at Seto if he ever said that. Like Hanamiya, Seto was someone that barely had to try to get some of the best grades on his class, and every time he compared himself and his intellect to Hanamiya’s (sometimes it was like as if he wouldn’t admit that he was jealous of that midget), Yamazaki just wanted to slam his head against the wall.

Now that time had passed, Yamazaki’s anger issues were no more (he still got annoyed over minimal things), and he’d learned to control his impulses and his sudden urges to break someone’s face. He still got easily pissed off at Hara and sometimes, he couldn’t control his volume, yet both Seto and Furuhashi had commented on how composed he’d been behaving lately.

And Yamazaki was proud of himself, like never before. It really was strange for him to be proud of himself, since most of the time he felt like as if he wasn’t doing his best, but the fact that he’d come in terms with his feelings and his impulses was something that had even surprised his father.

Back to reality, Yamazaki pouts at Seto and the latter one opens the door to Hanamiya’s room. Yamazaki’s able to come up with a short response before joining the room and he pats Seto’s shoulder to catch his attention.

-…Even though I’m the one that thought about it, I won’t be doing it either. I’ll leave it to those two.

···

As soon as Yamazaki joins the room, he picks up the notebook from Hanamiya’s hands. Apparently he’d been writing something that wasn’t related to his memories, probably a short drabble or something concerning one of his books. Hanamiya gives him a rather cold look, tapping his fingers along the TV’s music.

-You’re watching TV now? - the redhead asks, sitting on one of those tiny little chairs that are anything but good for his back, and Seto sits besides him, gazing at the vase placed near the window.

-Yes - Hanamiya mutters, nodding at him and looking back at the TV. They’re broadcasting a thriller-themed show he used to watch a lot when he was in high school, and he’d recalled that as soon as one of the nurses turned the TV on. - Dunno why, but one of the nurses complained about me writing all the time, or something like that. Hell, I can’t believe someone would complain over such a thing.

He’d always been like that, always wondering why people did stupid things. For him, it was stupid that people complained about him enjoying a good book (it’d happened more than once), yet he ended up ignoring them.

Yamazaki then proceed to read whatever Hanamiya had written down. It was kind of hard for him to tell the difference between memories and drabbles, and the worst part of this was that it wasn’t color-coded. But Yamazaki didn’t felt like walking up to Hanamiya and asking him dumb questions right now, so he had to figure it out himself.

He frowned and found something which looked like sort of a memory to him.

“It was a gym, filled-up with many people. I wasn’t able to recognize their faces, but I did recognize mine. Apparently, I was both the captain and coach of a team, and I wonder why, because that isn’t something you usually see at a gym. Anyway, a boy with dark, lifeless eyes handed me a towel, and I thanked him. Some of the teams’ players were struggling with exams, specially one of them. Red-haired and a really short temper, and he always looks pissed off, yet he was one of the team’s regulars. His name was Yamazaki, and he kept making dumb questions. He asks way too many questions, and is always really hard on himself, which is bad.”

It was exactly what Seto had told him before. Now, Yamazaki can’t tell if Hanamiya just recalled his name and it’s all a big lie, or if he’d actually recalled about him. Again, he’s trying to rush everything, instead of keeping a slow pace like he should do.

He’s aware of this, and yet he chooses to rush it. He closes the notebook, carrying a slightly astonished expression as he walks up to Hanamiya, and Seto knows exactly what’s coming.

-This thing you just wrote - he grumbles, giving back the notebook to Hanamiya, and the midget (as Yamazaki likes to call him) turns the TV off, starting eye contact. And, while Yamazaki was really good at eye contact, Hanamiya’s gaze has always managed to unsettle him, and this time’s not an exception -, it’s pretty damn long, like, couldn’t you sum it up?

Yamazaki didn’t even think about what to say, yet he’d said dumber things before. Seto can’t help but wonder if he’d actually been planing on saying that, yet he immediately came to the conclussion that Yamazaki had spoken his mind once again without knowing. Actually, Yamazaki had always been speaking his mind on a rather careless way, half-aware of what he was doing. This time it sounded more like a joke, yet he hadn’t read half of the text and instead he’d skipped right to the ending.

Hanamiya’s reaction didn’t seem to special at first. He just cackled, like he usually did. It was the exact same tone he’d used when he was laughing at someone, so Yamazaki thought it was going to be something good yet bad at the same time. Meanwhile, Seto looks through the window, and he can almost tell what Hanamiya’s going to say.

-You really hadn’t changed at all,  _Yama_  - he smirks. - Still making dumb questions for no reason, other than you couldn’t understand something.

Those words reach Yamazaki with enough strength to draw a small “holy fuck” from his lips, eyebrows raised and half-frozen on his spot, and for a moment he thinks Hanamiya’s lying to him. But he’s not. It’s that same stupid nickname from six years ago, along that devilish smirk he hadn’t shown for a while and that voice that manages to get on every single one of Yamazaki’s nerves.

God, even Seto was slightly shocked upon this. While he was expecting a response like that, he still became surprised before Hanamiya’s words. Really, if Hara had been there, he probably would be laughing right now. He stood up and brought the chair closer to the bed, trying not to chuckle at Yamazaki’s face.

As Hanamiya keeps writing on his notebook, Yamazaki keeps making dumb questions, each one being dumber than the other.

-Hey, you’re kidding,  _right_? - He forces a smile that isn’t enough to hide all of his current doubts and insecurities and points at Hanamiya, which gazes at him, then turning back to his notebook. - No way you’ve recalled shit about me by just sleeping-

-Really, I can’t believe you’re still this annoying - for Seto, it feels like as if they’d went back in time and it was high school all over again, with Hanamiya interrupting Yamazaki almost every time he wanted to say something. - Seems like you really haven’t changed at all, since once again, you’re exaggerating over little things. And, believe me, you really should change that.

While Seto was expecting none of that, he can’t help but crack a tiny smile at Yamazaki, as if he’d already knew. The redhead doesn’t notice, yet he feels like both Hanamiya and Seto are laughing at him and tries his best to hold his upcoming rage.

Hanamiya just keeps his smirk for a short time and goes back to writing, and Seto stands up, picking up the small plastic chair as Yamazaki gazes at both of them, bloodthirst green eyes, as if he was about to kill someone, when in reality he’s just pissed off.

-I’m glad things worked out - Seto half-smirks, placing the chair back near the window and he sits again, waiting for Yamazaki to calm down. - By the way… Just out of curiosity, but how do you feel towards Aiko-san?

Yamazaki sat back on the other plastic chair along Seto and got ready for what could be one of Hanamiya’s longest rants so far. Even worse than that time when he had to explain an entire historical period to Yamazaki almost five years ago, when he was helping the redhead pass his last exams.

Silently closing his notebook, Hanamiya’s smirk turns into a softer, child-like smile, something Yamazaki hadn’t witnessed before (not even during practice or during their high school graduation). And, while it looks weird to him at first, it doesn’t feel like a forced smile or something alike. Nothing like that.

Hanamiya’s smiling, and it feels natural. And, as much as he thinks he’s faking it, Yamazaki’s surprised upon seeing Hanamiya’s softer side.

-She’s a really gentle woman. Seems like she’d worked at a hospital before to me, since she understands how everything works and stuff. On the other side - he pauses for a moment, lowering his gaze and his smile turns back to a smirk -, sometimes I feel like as if we used to know each other, or something alike, because Aiko-san seems to know lots of things about me. Hell, sometimes she seems kinda familiar to me.

Seto needs some time to come up with a proper response, while Yamazaki just doesn’t say anything at all. While both of them were expecting Hanamiya to give a response like that, they didn’t thought that Hanamiya would mention anything else.

Then again, both Seto and Furuhashi (the later one hadn’t visited Hanamiya on a while for some reason) had been looking at Hanamiya’s notes and many of them briefly referenced his mother. He talked about her as a “small, caring woman”, and he once mentioned that “she looked like Aiko-san”.

There’s something else that Seto must tell him; that, once he’s released from the hospital,  _he’ll have to live with his mother_. If she hadn’t told him before, thought. They didn’t exactly knew whether Hanamiya would stay at Yamazaki’s floor for a while before, or he’d go back with his mother straight away. They still had to discuss it, though, and there were many things they had to keep in mind.

While they’re distracted, the doctor joins the room and gazes at Hanamiya, leaving some sheets on a table nearby his bed. All of the sudden, Yamazaki notices that they’ve just entered August and his birthday is terribly close, yet he doesn’t know how he’ll celebrate it. He doesn’t even know if he’ll celebrate it, though.

-Alright. We’ve been discussing this for a while now, and have decided - both Hanamiya and Seto know what’s about to come and Yamazaki can only expect bad news; something about himself which he yet had to fix. - On this thursday, the 4th, we’re gonna discharge you, since your arm’s almost recovered and you can move around freely, but always carefully.

Before Yamazaki asked anything concerning that, Hanamiya had already stood up, writing down something that’s mostly like to be a drabble rather than a memory, and Yamazaki doesn’t know whether he should be surprised or angry at this. Yes, he’d been told about Hanamiya being able to walk and all that jazz, but he wasn’t able to believe it at all.

Hanamiya gives him a rather annoyed look, placing the notebook back on the table and Yamazaki has yet to choose between praising him or just slapping him for no reason. But he’s surprised, since he hadn’t noticed all the progress Hanamiya had done, and none of the boys (specially Hara) told him about this. Which actually makes sense.

For Yamazaki, it’s as if Hanamiya has shrinked or something, since he looks even tinier than he was during high school. At least for him. It doesn’t seem like his personality has changed at all, thought, because he keeps being rude towards Yamazaki.

-Thanks, doctor. Anyway - the midget then sits beside the window, staring at the outskirts and Seto can almost tell that he’s thinking about something. Which he is -, does any of you know if that guy with glasses will come back?

He’s talking about Furuhashi now. The man hadn’t visited him for a while (two weeks so far) and Yamazaki doubted whether he’d visit Hanamiya later or not. It no longer had to do with his career, but perhaps Furuhashi just wasn’t interested in Hanamiya’s condition. Maybe he just wanted some time for himself.

Who knows. Maybe he’s just shy and doesn’t know how to act around Hanamiya. That’s what Yamazaki thinks, yet reality is nothing like that.

···

“the doctor said something about his legs being recovered and he’s been walking alot around the hall lately”

“also the doctor said he’ll be discharged on the 4th, which is my birthday too!”

“by the way, he’s been asking a lot about you. man you really should go and drop by, dunno if he remembers about you but he said something about a book”

Furuhashi knew exactly which book Yamazaki was talking about. It was a book Hanamiya had gifted him during high school, claiming it was a personal favorite and that he wanted Furuhashi to read it.

Named “Feathers”, Hanamiya once mentioned that it was the book that got him into both reading and writing. And, after reading it, Furuhashi had to agree with him. Not because Hanamiya was his friend, but because he was  _right_ , like most of the time. Perhaps Yamazaki wasn’t referring to that book, but to one of Hanamiya’s novels intead, yet Furuhashi had already chosen that book.

On the other side, he would’ve loved to drop by more often, but his last year of University was being harder than he’d expected and it was impossible for him to rest. Not even a small break. The last two weeks had been hellish for him, though, since he had to finish one of his longest projects so far and he barely got any sleep.

So, it wasn’t any surprise that he felt bad after reading Yamazaki’s messages. Now that he’d finished that project, he thought about dropping by, yet he noticed a few things before choosing.

He hadn’t told Hanamiya his name (or a name he could use to refer to him), and all the times he’d went to see him, he barely said anything. He would just leave a small bouquet of flowers, check Hanamiya’s notebook and sometimes he talked about high school and even made diverse references to the old basketball team. And, while Hanamiya didn’t seem to recall any of those at all, sometimes he cracked small laughs while Furuhashi talked to him, and it kind of made him happy.

And summer break began the very same day Hanamiya was discharged from the hospital. Which meant that he’d get to spend as many time as he wanted to Hanamiya (with some exceptions, of course) until August was over.

He really was looking forward to that. This time, however, he would make sure to follow something that Hanamiya’s mother had told him before concerning the whole issue. That, rather than rushing everything and getting a bad result, they should keep a slow pace and focus on both big and small details.

He would follow his own motto, too, and would try to keep calm before the situation, even if Hanamiya took longer than expected to recall him.

“I’ll drop by to pick him up on the 4th. Whether he goes back home walking or by car, or perhaps by ambulance, I think it would be nice if we showed him certain places before he’s back home.”

As soon as he sent that message, the thought of meeting Hanamiya once again, after two weeks (yes, two weeks was now a long period of time for him) drew a tiny smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to cover Hanamiya's discharge too (plus, he was supposed to meet Imayoshi as he walked back home), but I decided to skip it since I felt like it would make this chapter a bit too rushed. (?)
> 
> Imayoshi actually does show up (there'll be some hints of Imayoshi/Hanamiya but I still don't know), probably around chapter 6 or 7, and aside from him, I haven't thought about any other characters that could fit on this fic, since this fic is (mostly) KiriDaii focused.
> 
> By the way, next chapters will feature many flashbacks, and each one of them will focus on a different character. You've probably noticed that this one focused a bit on Yamazaki, so that's what I mean.
> 
> (And yes, books play a "huge" role here.)


	6. 変 (Annoying)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya is released from the hospital, and he and Furuhashi spend (almost) a day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to all of you!
> 
> Leave a comment if you want, and feel free to correct my mistakes. (Also kudos to certain person on Tumblr for telling me about mistakes.)

Hanamiya sat on one of the small plastic chairs near the window, holding a book Furuhashi had brought him earlier. He’d just arrived at the hospital nearly 5 minutes ago, and he had to admit that he would’ve liked to visit Hanamiya more often. It didn’t only have to do with his University career, though, but he also was secretly afraid. He was well aware of Hanamiya’s condition and, because of that, he didn’t want to disturb him or anything alike.

He still wanted Hanamiya to remember him and his teammates, and wanted him to recall memories concerning high school and the basketball club. And, if Hanamiya ever managed to recall such things, he’d like the entire group to meet again and hang out together, like they used to do back then.

By now, he just stood near Hanamiya, watching as he turned page by page, surrounded by nothing but the dim silence of a small room, wondering when the doctor would arrive. Hara too was supposed to drop by that day, but Furuhashi had arrived way too early, almost at 9AM, and there was no way Hara would get up that early. And he’d call Hanamiya’s mother lately, once the doctor discharged him.

Furuhashi had been talking with Hanamiya’s mother during the previous days, and she’d commented that it was mostly like as if Hanamiya wouldn’t need any therapist. While Furuhashi wasn’t certainly surprised by this, as he’d been told about Hanamiya’s progress by his former teammates, he still wondered if it was the best option. However, after seeing such determination and warmth in her eyes, Furuhashi decided that relying on her was the best he could do at the moment.

Back to reality, spending such a moment with Hanamiya reminded him of those days when he’d spend hours at the library finishing a book, surrounded by nothing but total silence, and he enjoyed watching as Hanamiya turned page by page, immersed in the words and the book’s unique storytelling. The only remarkable difference here was that Hanamiya still hadn’t recalled him, and because of this, Furuhashi doubted whether he’d mention something regarding the book to him.

It drew a smile on his face, and he couldn’t help but caress Hanamiya’s hair, hoping he was immersed enough on the book to ignore it. A gentle, ticklish touch against his head, soft fingers running through his hair, and it managed to distract Hanamiya from reading for a brief moment.

He saw a small woman with long, crow-like hair and tender features, patting her child’s head after he told her about an exam he’d passed previously. Said child surprisingly looked like him, with the exception that he looked kind of innocent to Hanamiya. Looking at his mother, his eyes lightened up and he smiled, and he walked close to her, embracing her in a small yet tight hug, as if he was thanking her for something.

Not to mention that said woman looked exactly like his mother, and while he wasn’t able to recall her at all, he felt like as if he’d lived that moment. He’d recognized himself in that flashback, and could only assume that said woman was someone close to him.

As soon as Hanamiya snapped out of his mind, he placed a small bookmark on his current page and closed the book, quickly handling it to Furuhashi, who stared at him with sleepy, empty eyes. Furuhashi immediately realized that the reason Hanamiya became distracted for a while was because of a flashback, and as much as he wanted to tease him because of it, he kept it for himself.

-Hey - he asked, and Hanamiya turned to him as he wrote something down in his little notebook, eyebrows raised and a curious gaze -, did you recall something?

Still writing in his notebook, Hanamiya walked up to him. He seemed so much different from the Hanamiya he’d seen more than a month ago, who just woke up from a coma, sick-white skin and watery eyes, skinny arms and slow movement, dried-up lips and a confused behavior.

Now he looked healthier than Furuhashi would’ve ever expected, and it wasn’t only thanks to his friends and family’s support, but he also wanted to recover for himself. After he recalled himself being an author, Hanamiya spent most of his free time writing small drabbles in his notebook, and Seto had told him many things concerning his own novels, including that he’d once mentioned that he would write a sequel to his second novel, ‘Risk’.

-You were Furuhashi, right? - After getting used to Hanamiya calling him 'Kojiro’ all the time, it was strange for him to hear Hanamiya saying his surname. Hanamiya soon finished writing down and gave the notebook to Furuhashi, smirking. - For some reason, I’ve been having small flashbacks like this one since this week began.

“Once again, I was a small child, wearing baggy clothes. The place seemed familiar to me, and so the woman that was talking to me. She somehow resembled Aiko-san, and acted in a sweet, caring way towards me, telling me that I was doing really good at school. Plus, she mentioned something about me being a really smart child, so I can only assume that she’s someone really close to me, perhaps a relative. But I’m not sure right now.”

Furuhashi wished he could tell Hanamiya who that woman was, yet Hanamiya wouldn’t believe him at first. And, aside from that, there were many things he’d like to tell Hanamiya, including memories from high school and diverse moments they shared together. He wanted to talk about those times when Hanamiya helped him with exams, and those times when they’d spend hours discussing about a certain author Hanamiya liked.

And they were spending time together once again, with the exception that Hanamiya had no clue about him. So, instead of talking nonsense to him, hoping he’d recall something on the process, Furuhashi gave him back the notebook, head slightly lowered and somewhat tense, because he didn’t exactly know how to reply.

But there was something he had to tell Hanamiya, because none of them had told him before.

-You know, I think Aiko-san would be really interested in what you’ve just written. She’ll arrive later to pick you up, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea if you showed her.

A curious Hanamiya raised his head at him, closing his notebook, looking at Furuhashi with such a child-like expression that he didn’t know how to react towards it. It’d been long since he’d seen such a look in Hanamiya’s eyes, not to mention that Hanamiya truly was curious.

Not only was he curious about why the woman would be interested in such a small memory, but he also wanted to know where he’d live after he was discharged.

Hanamiya also had something to say, and not only was it related to that flashback, but it was also about himself. He wanted to know if he had a family, and he wanted to know about himself. Both his teammates and his mother had told him many things in the past concerning himself, but he wanted to know specific things about himself. He wanted to know about the meaning behind those flashbacks.

Yet he wouldn’t ask so many questions at the moment. It was better to wait and see how things developed, and wait until the right moment to ask.

-So, I’ll have to live with Aiko-san? Is that what you mean? - And, once again, Furuhashi didn’t know how to reply before this. It didn’t seem like Hanamiya was any bothered by this, thought.

-…Yes. But, trust me - as soon as Hanamiya sat back besides the window, Furuhashi thought that stroking his hair would be a good idea, even without Hanamiya’s permission -, she’ll take care of you. She’s a really reliable person after all, I can tell you.

For some reason, it drew a small smile on Hanamiya’s face. It was strange for him to actually trust a person, yet he felt some kind of connection between the woman and him. He wasn’t able to explain it, thought, and he felt like she could be far more than just someone that was supposed to take care of him.

On the other side, Hanamiya just noticed a small bouquet of flowers behind him, near a small urn placed near the window. Unlike the other one, which Hanamiya didn’t notice, this one was far less-detailed, as it only included a mixture of white and yellow roses.

Hanamiya thought it was beautiful, even without knowing the meaning they carried.

-Say, Furuhashi - now they were looking at each other again, and while it was different from years ago, Furuhashi recalled some of those many moments they’d spent together during high school -, about Aiko-san…

Furuhashi hesitated for a second and blinked, although he really wasn’t expecting a serious question.

-Tell me.

-She seems kind of familiar to me, and I don’t know why. You know, it isn’t just the way she treats me, but I really feel like we’re kind of related - He looked at the roof for a moment, then back at Furuhashi, and now he was the same pessimist man he’d seen after he woke up. - Who knows, maybe we’re _actually_ related.

Once again, Furuhashi wanted Hanamiya to know the truth. But to do so on a moment like that, when triggering such memories was almost an impossible task, would be a waste of time. And Furuhashi knew this, reason why he’d chose to remain silent again.

He looked at his phone. It was 9:20AM, and the flow of time managed to surprise him once again. But Furuhashi couldn’t care less about the time at the moment, so he decided to ignore it. It was most likely that Hara would arrive near 11AM, perhaps earlier if they were lucky.

He looks back at Hanamiya, tired eyes and lowered eyebrows, as if he was worried about something. He’d been doing his best to not worry too much about the entire issue, yet it was being harder than he thought. 

So Furuhashi chose to ignore Hanamiya’s words and raised his head, adjusting his glasses.

-Anyway, did you have breakfast yet?

···

Time flowed slowly and 12AM arrived, and so do Hara and Hanamiya’s mother. Furuhashi has the sudden urge to show her what Hanamiya had written down earlier, yet decided to wait until they’ve discharged him. He’d thought about rushing things and calling Hanamiya’s mother to tell her earlier about what happened, but it wouldn’t be the best choice. And he was well aware of this.

Long before the doctor arrived, they discussed about Hanamiya’s possible treatment and where he should live. Hara claimed that it would be a good idea if he lived with Yamazaki for a while before indefinitely moving back home, then dropped the idea, wondering why he’d say something like that. He didn’t even think about it on the first place. On the other side, both Furuhashi and Hanamiya’s mother agreed with the idea of him going back home, although Furuhashi would’ve liked Hanamiya to stay at his home for a little while before.

Minutes later, the doctor arrived, and Furuhashi decided to speak up for all of them. He explained that, while therapy was optional, they should show him places, photo albums and things alike that could trigger back some memories. Which was something they would do as soon as Hanamiya was discharged from that place. It didn’t mean that they would reject therapy, though, and Hanamiya’s mother had spoken with a therapist just in case.

He also mentioned that while it’d be helpful if Hanamiya got to spend time with his beloved ones, he’d need some time for himself too. Given that Hanamiya was a huge introvert during high school (he still enjoyed spending time with his friends and family), Hara totally agreed with him.

-Doctor - Furuhashi raises his head, dead eyes fixed on lively, bright ones, and he doesn’t look as worried as usual -, do you think it’s possible for him to recall all of his lost memories?

-Being honest, I don’t think so. While he’ll recall a vast majority, it’s unlikely that he’ll recover all of them. That’s all I can tell you, though. You’ll need to see someone specialized in his condition if you’d like to learn more.

He forgot to mention that perhaps Hanamiya had forgotten about his daily routine. He’d wake up and he would probably have no clue on what he should do. The doctor was actually informed about amnesia, yet he couldn’t treat it as he wasn’t specialized on that topic.

Furuhashi had suspected about this, as Seto had previously told him that he once asked Hanamiya on his daily routine, and he could only reply by saying that he sometimes wrote. He didn’t mention any of this, but Furuhashi made a small schedules days ago so Hanamiya was able to guide himself through the day.

Their first appointment didn’t take place until next monday (that is, the 8th), and they hoped that, at least, Hanamiya would get used to his old routine during those days.

Meanwhile, Hanamiya was still curious about his childhood and his life in general.

···

When Hanamiya talked about how it should be better for them to not meet again, Hara not only thought that he hadn’t trusted his friends, but he also thought that he meant “not talking to him again”. Hanamiya was actually talking about the entire group in general, but, for some reason, he wanted to forget about his teammates.

Hara didn’t know the reason as to why he’d decided to stay away from them, but he suspected that it might have to do with their basketball team. 

Unlike Hanamiya, he wasn’t the loner type (he was kind of an introvert, yet he was really outgoing and enjoyed spending time with friends like no one else), and he’d kept in touch with Yamazaki, often showing up at his apartment and playing cheap games together once he had some free time.

Many of Hara’s habits hadn’t changed at all. He still used those 'cute’ nicknames nobody liked, bought oversized sweaters and wore them during the entire year (yes, summer wasn’t an exception), chewed gum without realizing how loudly he was chewing, and kept on blasting music loudly for no reason, claiming that music was supposed to be enjoyed.

He decided to make an exception with Hanamiya, though, as he knew from high school that Hanamiya easily became annoyed upon hearing loud music and loud sounds in general, and lowered the music as soon as he got into the car.

-Before we head home, we’d like to show you a few places - Hara smiled, adjusting his hair (which he’d recently dyed black), placing himself on the front seat. That Furuhashi and Hanamiya are sitting together is something that Hara has perhaps done on purpose. - It’ll probably take a while, though. If y'get tired then I’ll take you home if you want.

-Actually, I’m interested in those places - he buckled up, and Furuhashi picked up a small CD he found on the floor, which belonged to Hara’s band. - Perhaps you’ll show me the library?

Hara was unable to come up with a decent response this time, given the fact that he’d initially thought that Hanamiya hadn’t recalled such a place. But, then again, many of Hanamiya’s interests had to do with reading, and soon or later he would recall that small library where he’d spent most of his free time.

“Free time” and “Hanamiya” were a couple of words you’d never expect to find together in the same sentence. Because, back in the day, nobody would expect Hanamiya to find even the smallest amount of time, struggling with his personal life, the basketball team and the Disciplinary Committee. But thanks to his terrifying intelligence and a well-planned schedule, Hanamiya still found a way through, and took nice advantage of his free time.

It was no wonder as why he’d suddenly recalled that library, because it was like a second home to him. It was that place where he could stay away from annoying people, where he could be himself. Where he’d spend endless hours writing creating entirely different worlds from the one he knew, or writing, immersing himself in vast oceans full of words, each one unique and different from the others. Where he could just distract himself from anything that was overwhelming or bothering him at the moment.

Somehow, Hara was able to think about a proper response, still doubting whether Hanamiya’s reaction towards it would be positive or the opposite. Repeatedly tapping his fingers on the stering wheel along the music, he picked up his cars’ key and hummed some of the songs’ lyrics. Really, he hadn’t changed at all.

-That library was on Kurano Street, right?

-It’s actually at Kuragi Street, Hara - With this, Furuhashi leaned closer to Hanamiya, and while it didn’t bother him too much, for a moment he wondered why he’d done that. As far as he recalled, he _wasn’t_ particulary close to Furuhashi.

···

They first stopped at that very same library, and Furuhashi felt like as if Hara just didn’t know anything about driving. He’d almost skipped a red light before, let alone the speed he was driving at. He was ruthless, driving with that goofy smile of his, windows opened most of the time and he’d slightly raised the musics’ volume during a stop. All of this so they could arrive earlier at the library.

Furuhashi immediately realized what a mistake he’d done by following Hara and Hanamiya to the library, as he was hanging out with two famous individuals (a childish musician and a renowned author) and they were right in the middle of the street, people looking at them and wondering why such a normal-looking guy would hang out with those two. While he didn’t really care about this, he felt like as if they were drawing more attention than they needed.

He took off his glasses for a moment, quickly picking up a small tissue from his pocket and began to clean them carefully, so he could remove any bits of dirt that was on them. Meanwhile, Hanamiya stared at the building, eyes fixed on its entirety and citizens looking at him, wondering if it’d be fine to talk with him, specially after he’d lived such an accident.

(Yes, for some reason they’d shown some information concerning Hanamiya’s condition, even when Hanamiya’s mother had explicitly told them to not do so, and his friends couldn’t be more pissed.)

It was a small, 1-floor building placed at the very corner of the street, half-transparent windows and many shelves placed throughout the entire place, which included diverse kinds of books. Many tables (and some computers) were scattered around the place, and some people were already roaming around the place, some of them noticing Hanamiya’s presence and walking towards the window, attempting to talk to him.

“Right, I was a _famous_ author”, Hanamiya suddenly recalled, rather sickened by that, he frowned and he turned to his old teammates. Furuhashi was the only one that noticed him, while Hara was distracted checking some messages he’d just got. Hanamiya’s features softened for a brief second and he smirked at them, tilting his head, as if he wanted to enter the building.

-Well, you two will have to enter alone - Hara grinned, turning off his phone and picking his cars’ key, and Furuhashi was slightly startled by this. - Our bassist called, and we gotta record some new songs. You two have a good time, 'right?

He handled the keys to Furuhashi, and for a brief moment, said man saw his eyes. Electric blue with small cyan highlights, Furuhashi still became amazed when he saw them as he did the first time, and after seeing the look on Hara’s eyes, he perfectly knew what he was supposed to do. It was far more than taking Hanamiya to places he almost couldn’t remember, or showing him pretty sunsets and backgrounds.

It had to be a story. Furuhashi had to tell Hanamiya that kind of history he’d never forget, something strong enough to trigger back anything he’d forgot. About the basketball team, per example, and those infinite exams Hanamiya totally ace’d even without trying. That small sushi bar they usually had dinner at, when practice was too long, and a small park they used to hang at during their free time.

They had an entire day to visit back those buildings; to share long, slow walks while Furuhashi talked nonsense about their old high school days, and Furuhashi would go at his own pace, instead of hurrying up for no reason, thus having little-to-no effect.

-…Right - he nodded, walking up to Hanamiya, who was again distracted by staring at the library from the window, and Hara waved at them, hoping things would be alright. He now pats Hanamiya’s shoulder and the latter notices him, without turning to him. - Would you like to enter?

···

His first day of summer break began by spending almost half an hour at the library, watching as his friend looked for a book throughout the entire place. Furuhashi perceived a certain degree of nostalgia on his eyes, as if that book had been something important to him. He knew that “Feathers”, a book they talked a lot about during high school, would be a good option, but Hanamiya’s desired book was totally different.

And Furuhashi knew how different it was when they ended up at the children’s section. That library was much older than them and it was easily noticeable, as there were books that none of them could remember. Even Hanamiya, whom during his childhood had frequented that library many times, wasn’t able to recall any single book he’d looked at.

…Except for _that_ one. It was a relatively small book about animals, and Hanamiya had read it back during his childhood, when he barely was 4 years old and books were about to grow on him. He reached for it and a bunch of kids turned to them, muttering small insults directed at them.

-You know - Hanamiya raised his head, gazing at the taller man, and it drew a tiny smile on Furuhashi’s lips, him looking both at Hanamiya and the book -, I used to read this a lot when I was little, about 20 years ago, I think.

Leaving the book back at the shelf, Hanamiya suddenly recalled more facts about his childhood. How, with merely 7 years, he was able to solve operations that belonged to middle school, after they’d barely explained him how he was supposed to solve them. How he was constantly praised because of his intelligence, perhaps too much for a 7-year old child. How he’d spent most of his evenings reading along a certain woman’s soothing voice, as she guided him through the book.

-I actually frequented this library too, but - Furuhashi stuttered for a moment, and he wasn’t lying; he wouldn’t choose the wrong path and lie to Hanamiya so he could remember about him -, I don’t remember seeing anyone like you.

···

Their second stop was -that’s right- their old school. Kirisaki Daiichi High, founded near the 50’s, now one of, if not Tokyo, Japan’s best schools. With many facilities and a relatively strong golf club (who cares about golf, anyway?), it was a school mostly made up by rich, intelligent students, and refined students whoses families belonged to the upper class, and many of those students ended up at some of Japan’s (and the world’s) best Universities.

-They’re probably closed because of summer break - Furuhashi commented, taking several photos of that place, and a interested Hanamiya just looked around. That place was oddly familiar to him. - Which is a shame, because I wanted to show you something.

That something was, _obviously_ , their old classroom, 2-A. He wanted to take Hanamiya to the library too, and, if they had enough time, to the old gym, where they sometimes practised.

-You’d like to tell me something, don’t you.

Furuhashi sometimes thought about Hanamiya as some kind of mind-reader. Even he hadn’t seen Hanamiya’s true intelligence so far (perfect exams and the basketball club were, probably, just small portions of it), but maybe it was something other than mind-reading. Perhaps Furuhashi’s thoughts were easier to read than he thought.

He took a deep breath, a warm, soft gust of wind caressing their bodies and they looked at each other. It was like a scene from Hanamiya’s first novel, “Wonder”, in which the main character and its childhood friend shared anecdotes from long ago.

-Actually, yes - he tried to break eye contact as much as possible, but Hanamiya’s gaze was strong enough to drag him back as much as he wanted. - The first day we talked, it was at this school’s library. I was one of the Library Committees’ members and you spent lots of time there. By then, all I knew about you was that we were classmates and your grades were some of the best I’ve seen so far. You were the first one to talk to me, and you asked me if it was possible for you to bring a book to your home.

-And - Hanamiya interrupted, trying to recreate such scenario on his mind -, was it possible?

-It was. When writing down data about you and the book you wanted to take, I noticed that it was one of Inoue’s novels, and I too enjoyed his books - Furuhashi almost blamed himself for not taking that exact novel with him so Hanamiya could see it. - A rather long talk, I must confess, and some people from the library called me out because of that.

Unable to recall anything concerning that moment, Hanamiya saw him and a certain boy hanging out after class, speaking about Inoue’s and Ogawa’s novels. He couldn’t tell the difference between that boy and Furuhashi, and the idea of him and Furuhashi actually being classmates didn’t seem that strange to him. He also saw, in that very same scene, another three boys walking along them, one of them saying something along the lines of them being boyfriends, and the other two questioning his intelligence.

“What a strange, yet unique group of friends”, he thought to himself, and his stomach suddenly growled at him. And Furuhashi knew the right place where they could eat.

···

The food Hanamiya had been eating at the hospital was decent, if not mediocre. He couldn’t refuse to eat it, though, as he’d lost a bunch of weight since his arrival at the hospital. He was skinny, but not the 'ill’ kind of skinny; he’d been eating well at the hospital, but Hanamiya wasn’t someone that gained weight easily.

So, when he ordered one of the largest, but not expensive menus, Furuhashi was slightly relieved. He’d initially thought that Hanamiya would refuse to eat, or would just order a small menu, but he definitely didn’t see that coming. Really, it’d be long since he’d last seen Hanamiya eat that much, specially because Hanamiya wasn’t often seen with such appetite.

Tables had turned and so their roles. Hanamiya was usually the one who spoke while Furuhashi ate, the latter one paying close attention to anything he said, and Furuhashi enjoyed listening to his small anecdotes. This time, however, Furuhashi was the one speaking, telling stories from long ago, and Hanamiya found them interesting. Some of those stories sounded familiar to him, yet Hanamiya still wasn’t able to recall most of them.

-…And you had some of the best grades during high school. You were the best student out of them all, and I wasn’t surprised - Furuhashi wasn’t hungry to begin with, so he’d just ordered a small portion of sushi and a glass of water. He played around with his chopsticks as Hanamiya attempted to finish his noodles, staring at his sushi portion as he spoke.

After Hanamiya was done slurping some noodles, he cleaned his mouth with a small, soft napkin, and turned to Furuhashi. He knew perfectly what he was talking about, and Hanamiya suddenly remembered certain moments from his third year at high school. Yes, perhaps being the mastermind was nice, but he eventually got tired of all the praise he was getting. All he wanted back then was to have a quiet life and take care of his mother once he finished high school and found a good job. He didn’t want to attend any of those weird, famous Universities that would only put even more pressure on him.

-Really… - he mumbled, placing his chopsticks besides the bowl and grabbing his glass of water, pouting. It was no surprise that he became annoyed after hearing such a story. - Fuck those guys. No matter how much I told them that I’d become an author, they kept chasing me, even on the street. Rather than annoying, they were creepy. Sure, a genius would’ve been the best addition to their goddamn University, but I just couldn’t bear them.

-But - Furuhashi commented, picking up his wallet -, you were interested in one of those Universities, right?

-Kind of. At first, I was interested in Sodai, and wanted to study Literature. And guess what, there was someone from Sodai interested on me, and they would just keep insisting. But that wasn’t the only reason as why I chose to not study. I think one of my friends convinced me to, but don’t trust me.

And, surprisingly, that person wasn’t Furuhashi, but it was Hara. Furuhashi too believed in Hanamiya’s writing skills, often praising them and reading some of Hanamiya’s drabbles. But Hara was the one that made him consider writing a book, thinking it was as easy as sitting in front of a computer and typing things down, and while Hanamiya ignored him at first, he eventually came to the conclusion that perhaps becoming an author would be more productive than studying a career. And Hanamiya wasn’t that kind of person.

Besides, even if he was escorted to any of those Universities, his mother probably wouldn’t have enough money to sustain him. One of the things that Hanamiya worried about the most was his family’s economical status, and now it’d become nothing but a whisper in the wind, not only because Hanamiya’s novels were enough to sustain them both, but also because he’d forgotten about it.

···

Their fourth and last stop was a small park nearby Furuhashi’s home, which they frequently visited after practice, and sometimes during summer. It wasn’t an interesting park, yet it was a quiet place, something that Furuhashi enjoyed and found rather soothing.

They sat together on a bench near the park’s exit, Hanamiya writing stuff down on his notebook without saying a word and Furuhashi checking some messages he’d just received. It was Yamazaki, complaining about how neither him or Hanamiya hadn’t told him anything regarding his birthday. Hanamiya wasn’t aware of that day being Yamazaki’s birthday and Furuhashi just didn’t care about birthdays at all.

“I can’t believe you’re still not mature enough for your age, Yamazaki.”

It was the only message Furuhashi would send him. True, it was harsh, but unless it was one of his relatives’ birthdays, he didn’t care too much. Of course, Hanamiya was an exception to this.

Hanamiya stopped writing for a moment and decided to take a look at that place. Bright blue skies slowly turning orange, with little-to-no clouds on it and the Sun ruling all over the sky. Swings and a landslide that nobody used anymore, as barely anybody visited that park nowadays. Multiple trees and bushes which added to the scenery, and benches filled with weird drawings and signatures. Those weren’t the things which got his attention, though, as he eventually found that park to be a quiet place to rest and write at.

It was so quiet, they didn’t realize that there was someone aside from themselves at that park.

-So Furuhashi wears glasses now? - he cackled, walking towards the two of them, and Hanamiya seemed to recognize that sharp grin he was carrying. - My, it’s been so long since I’ve seen ya.

-You’ve heard the news, right? - Furuhashi frowned, and Hanamiya chose to ignore them, almost unaware of Imayoshi’s existence. Said man no longer wore glasses (apparently, he’d changed into contacts, and was proud of his choice), and stood at almost the same height as Hanamiya.

There was something about Imayoshi that seemed to bug Hanamiya, and he couldn’t tell if it was that careful, withdrawn expression of his or how he was looking at them, as if he was analysing them or something alike. But it was Imayoshi’s smile, sharp and cold, almost sending shivers down his spine, hiding all of his thoughts, what actually resonated to him.

-Well, I was busy with a small project, and don'tcha think I watch ta news too often - It was right here when he noticed Hanamiya, who wasn’t paying much attention to both of them, mostly because he didn’t know what to say. Hanamiya raised his head at him, half-pouting, and he didn’t felt like talking at the moment. - How'cha doing? Ya last novel was truly interesting. I wasn’t expecting any less from ya, Hanamiya.

It was the way he said his name what truly caught his attention. He’d heard Furuhashi’s voice, silent and dull as the loneliest of summer nights, and that voice sounded familiar to him too, but Imayoshi’s was far different. Harsh and somewhat cold, a voice that seemed kind of annoying to him, mixed with a weird accent which probably belonged to someone from the western areas.

It wasn’t until he looked at Imayoshi -hands on pocket, a sly expression like a fox’s and that very same grin from years ago- that he recalled it. A well-known face, of smaller stature, who had just found out about Hanamiya’s schemes and his plans towards their basketball club. Hanamiya, who barely was 12 at the moment, had knocked out the coach’s son the previous week, and thus the coach retired from the team.

Because Imayoshi knew about what Hanamiya had done, and would chase him until he found out about Hanamiya’s goal.

-Hey - he smirked, still pouting, and Imayoshi’s presence seemed to be annoying him, just like always -, thought you’d forgotten about me. Shouldn’t you be studying or somethin’? You told me that you’d study at Todai.

-Even I need a break sometimes, Hanamiya. Anyway - he tilted his head, and, because he didn’t understand well his personality, Furuhashi said nothing -, did ya recover from ya accident?

“He’s still annoying as fuck”, Hanamiya thought to himself, frowning, and even he was unable to understand Imayoshi’s personality at all, despite having spent 2 years of middle school with him. “Also, accident?”

Furuhashi sighed, having noticed some bits of anger on Hanamiya (yes, that’s how much he respected his old senpai) and stood up, with an obscure expression this time, dead eyes fixed on Imayoshi’s closed ones, and Imayoshi didn’t react towards this. His grin, tetric as none other, hid darker intentions than Furuhashi could think about, and for him, it was no wonder as why Hanamiya’s personality was like that.

-Imayoshi-san, if you have any unfinished projects, you should go and finish them. You’re probably bothering Hanamiya, by the way.

-Oh, really? - He laughs, and Furuhashi can almost tell that Imayoshi is far worse than Hanamiya is, even if Imayoshi hasn’t injured anybody during his basketball career - In that case, then, I’ll have ta leave, but I was having a good time talkin’ with ya.

After Imayoshi leaves, waving at both Hanamiya and Furuhashi, the park’s atmosphere seems even calmer than before, and Hanamiya suddenly wants to thank Furuhashi for what he did. Imayoshi was bothering Hanamiya, but not as much as he thought. Really, Hanamiya still didn’t know how to get rid of that guy.

Hanamiya opens his notebook again, quickly writing down that memory he’d just recalled and Furuhashi watches as he writes. He almost can’t believe that, once again, he gets to spend some time with his beloved, and it draws a tiny smile on his face, even though Hanamiya hasn’t recalled him so far. But Furuhashi knows that someday, Hanamiya will refer to him as “Kojiro” once again, and he’ll have to drag Hanamiya into such a long hug, that it could even make him uncomfortable.

-Furuhashi, ain’t that guy a pain in the ass?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'll focus on the rest of the team aside from Furu on the next chapters,,
> 
> (i'm so bad with imayoshi *pterodactyl noises*)


	7. 家庭 (Home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It'll probably take long to Hanamiya to fully understand the concept of "family".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower language and books will play an important role on this fic.
> 
> I've changed the name because I felt like 'Oblivion' didn't fit that much. If you can't tell, it's literally Hanamiya's name translated (i'm so original :v). I'll take this fic kind of slowly, because 12 chapters felt too rushed to me. Some future chapters might be just flashbacks, and I'll clarify it once it happens.
> 
> Also, this could be one of the longest (if not the longest) fics I've written, but it depends. My current longest fic reached 122K, and this one is currently at 34K. Expect something near 15~20 chapters.

In the middle of the night, the room was surrounded by nothing but pure darkness, dim light and a weak, warm breeze coming from the window. The room itself was clean, everything in order, and any work in progress remained untouched, his phone lying next to a small stacks of paper, which were supposed to be the first chapter of his third novel, “Reminiscence”.

Hanamiya’s novels dwelled in themes such as childhood friends, family issues, struggling with one’s life choices, and, surprisingly, loss of memory. Each one of them possessed an unique, yet confusing storytelling, mixed with many metaphors that almost nobody could understand. He carefully planned each chapter before writing, sometimes taking almost two months to finish a single chapter, but most of the time, it was worth it. 

All of those countless hours he’d spent writing and correcting his own mistakes were worth a couple of compliments from his mother and some random people from the Internet, and it was more than enough to lighten up his day. Sometimes Hanamiya wasn’t even proud of his work, being too hard with himself and aiming for perfection most of the time. But when he thought about how much time he’d poured into those chapters and how proud his family was of him, it was enough to keep him going.

He sighed, unable to fall asleep, and turned to the side, tired arms, trying to reach the nightstand, and grazed a small water bottle his mother had left near the lamp before. There was no actual reason as why he would turn on the light, because the one that came through the window was more than enough. He brought his arm back to the sheets, gently scrapping them, and he couldn’t feel more comfortable lying on that bed. Hanamiya now stared at the room’s ceiling, entirely surrounded by pure darkness except for a small dash of light which lightened the lamps’ outline.

With tired, somewhat watery eyes, he barely blinked. Ever since he went back home, many flashbacks had been chasing him. Most of the time, he saw a mother taking care of her son, with the boy treating her in such a delicate way that Hanamiya was unable to believe it. Sometimes he saw a group of boys gathered at their living room, with the boy asking his mother if they were really not bothering her. He was able to recognize himself in those flashbacks, and, aside from Yamazaki, he didn’t seem to recognize anybody else.

But this time, it was different. He saw a family of three, where, once again, he could only recognize himself. He shared some personality traits with the man, yet he seemed closer to the woman, sharing many physical features with her, such as thick eyebrows and fair, porcelain-like skin. They were walking near a park, but the child showed little-to-no interest in such place, and he was staring at a small bag his mother was carrying. Both of his parents stared at him and then at each other, smiling. They had such a curious child, it was almost unbelievable.

“You really don’t want to spend some time at the park, Makoto?”

The child nodded, now turning to his mother. Her smile was as bright and tender as usual, warmth in her eyes, and seeing her like that drew a little smile on the child’s face. He thought that she was beautiful.

“Sorry dad, but, I really wanna go home and read this book”, he replied, and his father couldn’t help but chuckle. Ever since his mother got him into reading, he had been asking his father to buy him certain books, based off his mother’s preferences. Both of his parents laughed at this and his mother stroked the child’s hand before grabbing it. The child didn’t understand why they were laughing.

The flashbacks ended there, and he almost snapped right out of the bed, heartbeats rapidly increasing and taking short yet deep breaths to calm himself down. He feels like as if he’s seen those people before. He remembered that park, because it was the one that he and Furuhashi visited the other day. And he couldn’t deny it: that child was him for sure. He felt like he was connected to those people, as he’d referred to the man as “dad”, and the way the woman grabbed his hand resonated strongly with him.

He sighed, his pale fingers grazing the sheets, weakly grabbing them and covering himself as he laid back on the bed. With crow-like hair spread all over the pillow like silk, he closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep once again, but he couldn’t. That flashback had been far more vivid than any flashback he’d had before, as if he’d actually lived it.

Hanamiya still felt that fresh gust of wind against his skin, and those small, thin fingers that tickled his hands still caressed them, and he felt the sudden urge to tighten their grip. When he tried, however, he remembered that such hand was nothing but an illusion, and when he noticed, his fingertips were pushing against his palm. The touch against his skin was cold and he withdrew his fingers, suddenly snapping back to reality.

Unsure on how to feel, Hanamiya took small breaths, staring at the ceiling as he tried to calm down, strong heartbeats against his chest and too many thoughts at once.

-Family - he muttered, barely sleepy, brushing the sheets once again, and their delicate texture felt good to the touch. Half-closing his eyes, he tried to adjust himself to bed, trying to find the perfect posture.

“ _Where could they be?_ ”, he asked himself as he tried to fall asleep, with the same fragile features as a child.

···

Unlike he’d expected, Hanamiya woke up by himself, and his mother was still making breakfast when he did. It was relatively early when he woke up and he’d barely gotten any hours of sleep, so it was no wonder as to why he’d felt dizzy while walking down the stairs, as if he would trip at any moment.

It could’ve been one of the longest nights of his life. Sure, sometimes he’d stayed up writing until nearly 4AM to finish a chapter, but that night was nothing compared to that. Hanamiya wouldn’t be exaggerating if he said that he couldn’t stop thinking about his family, and about how much that woman resembled his mother. He eventually came to the conclussion that perhaps, that woman was his mother, but because he hadn’t recognized her yet, he wasn’t exactly sure.

As he walked through the hallway, he didn’t notice that small frame of him as a child, nor the small vase with phlox besides it, and he walked straight into the living room.

Said room remained as silent as it was each time Hanamiya sat down to write. There were many books and sheets scattered all over the floor, which he didn’t bother to clean up, along with multiple pencils and pens, and a small laptop was lying on a cushion. There was a small basket with sweets on the kotatsu, almost untouched, and the corridor was half-open. A familiar summer breeze entered through the corridor, and he stared at the garden for a moment, witnessing the pale-colored flowers with weary eyes.

Removing some hair from his forehead, he went back inside the living room, carefully picking up the laptop. He placed it on the kotatsu, moving aside the basket, and decided to open it and take a good look at whatever he’d been writing before.

“ _Reminiscence - I_

Small, pure white clouds wander around the sky, searching for their way home, and so he does, stepping on small puddles, and he enjoys the sound he makes when he steps on them, as well as the small drops that splash. Deep inside, he’s still a child.”

It didn’t take him too long to recall that, while he was planning his next book, he struggled with its synopsis and storytelling, since it had to carefully follow the previous books. Not to mention the fact that a writers’ block would strike him during the upcoming days, and it would take him quite a while to recover from it, trying to write small drabbles when even the slightest bit of inspiration sparked on him.

He sighed, closing the computer once again, and turned his head upon hearing some steps getting closer to the room. It was his mother, carrying a familiar smile, just like that woman from the flashback, and a small tray with a rice bowl and soup. She left the tray on the table while Hanamiya looked at her, and something told him that it was mostly like as if she was his mother or some kind of relative. But, so far, he’d barely recalled any memories concerning his mother; just what he’d seen in previous flashbacks, and he still wasn’t able to recognize her.

-You’re going to write? - she asked, sitting besides her son, and Hanamiya was unsure on how to reply. Writing wasn’t between the activities he’d planned for that day, but his schedule stated that he usually wrote between 1-2 hours each day, often during evenings. - That’s fine. But at least, eat something before. The doctor probably told you before, but you need to eat. I won’t force you, though.

Silently nodding, Hanamiya grabbed a pair of chopsticks and looked at his breakfast. He liked simplicity, so it wasn’t a problem, but he wasn’t really hungry at the moment. But he wouldn’t reject something that a _relative_ had done for him, so he stared at it for a brief moment before diving in. He didn’t remember which words he was supposed to say before eating.

He took a small portion of rice to his mouth, chewing slowly. No, he wasn’t in the mood for food at the moment, but he couldn’t reject it. Not when that woman had been so kind to him during his stance at the hospital, to the point he’d recently began to think about her as a relative.

To say the truth, he actually thought that she was a relative. For a moment, he turned to her, still holding the chopsticks, and he’d barely eaten anything. Hanamiya just wanted to tell her that he wasn’t exactly hungry at the moment, and that he’d rather wait until lunch, but seeing such a kind person in front of him, for some reason, made him feel guilty, and so he kept eating, almost forcibly.

-Oh, no, you shouldn’t force yourself to eat if you don’t want to.

Such words were pronnounced in such a kind way that Hanamiya couldn’t help but lower his head, placing the soup bowl back on the tray, and the chopsticks above said bowl. He still felt guilty, as if he’d hurt someone important to him, yet he wasn’t able to figure out where that feeling came from.

-Excuse me - he sighed, and stood up as his mother tilted her head, picking up the tray -, I’m not really that hungry.

-Hey, don’t worry - she smiled. All of the sudden, Hanamiya felt better with himself, and couldn’t tell if it was her voice, soothing like nothing else he’d heard before, or the woman herself. She stood up, and looked at her son. - By the way, wasn’t one of your friends going to pick you up later?

It barely took Hanamiya a second to recall what he was supposed to do that day, August 5th. The previous day, when Furuhashi brought him home, they talked about their former teammates for a while, and he mentioned that Seto would like to hang out with him someday, as well as his other teammates. 

Yes, that very day, Seto was supposed to pick him up at 11:30AM. Those thoughts vanished like dust in the air and Hanamiya had forgotten about it until now. He snapped out of reality, slightly raising his eyebrows and skipping a beat, even if he still had almost two hours to get dressed and ready to go outside. Hanamiya could totally spend those hours writing, perhaps that chapter he hadn’t touched in almost 2 months, or a small drabble just to kill time.

However, he was still curious about his family, and felt like that woman could probably answer most of his questions. But, in top of that, he wanted to ask her if they were related. If she was his mother. Even if he hadn’t recalled her yet, he wanted to know, and wanted her to explain those flashbacks to him. And, of course, Hanamiya wanted to thank her for everything she was doing for him, and for taking care of him.

For a brief moment, he felt like he belonged to that place. He felt like home, and while it was a strange feeling, he’d actually missed that place during his stance at the hospital. That familiar feeling embraced him as he walked outside the living room, and stood for a solid minute in the hallway, until he noticed a small frame placed on a drawer near the entrance. He frowned, curious, and decided to pick up said frame.

There wasn’t any other possible explanation.

-Makoto? Did you hear me?

He didn’t. Not only because he’d been distracted, but that photo surely had got his attention. As soon as he gazed at those olive eyes, that childlike gaze that strongly resembled his, and those angelic features, he couldn’t deny it. Slightly raising his eyebrows, he skipped a heartbeat and kept looking at that frame, certainly surprised, even though he wasn’t one to react towards such things.

He was that child, and he couldn’t deny it. This brought back yet another memory, this one far shorter than the previous ones, yet it would stay on Hanamiya’s mind for quite a while.

He had reached for his mother’s shoulders, his thin, pale fingers dancing along a cicada’s dim song. She’d just came back from her business trip, and Hanamiya couldn’t be happier. Sure, he was used to long business trips, some of them reaching almost a week, and almost didn’t mind staying alone at home. But this time, he’d just graduated from middle school. Him, a so-called prodigy that had no problems during exams, pitied by most people from his -old- basketball team, actually had a soft side, perhaps the softest of them all.

“I really wanted you to attend my graduation, mum, but it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“Don’t you worry, dear”, she whispered, letting her son tightly embrace her into what could be one of the longest hugs he’d ever given to someone, burying her head on her sons’ shoulder, searching for a moment of comfort after such a busy week. “You know that I’m proud of you, _Makoto._ ”

Along this, many memories from middle school unwrapped right in front of him. Such as the first match he fully memorized, and reproduced afterwards, with a certain senpai watching him as Hanamiya moved each piece across the table. He had to confess that, while Imayoshi was certainly an annoying guy, ruining each one of his schemes, he wasn’t that bad as a senpai. Still, once Imayoshi retired, Hanamiya felt incredibly relieved, as if he had lifted a huge weight off his shoulders.

After he came back to reality, trying to leave those thoughts behind and focus on his current tasks, he carefully left the frame back on the desk, between the vase and the keys.

 _Mum_.

Said word escaped from his tongue like a prisoner that ran searching for its freedom, and as soon as he blinked, it vanished in the air. Soon, he felt strange, and those words had left a bitter sensation on both his lips and his tongue. He still didn’t have a clear idea of who she was, however, but felt like he was close to discovering something.

It only managed to make him even more curious than he already was, and he took a deep breath. That day was the second day that had passed since he was discharged from the hospital, and, as much as everyone had previously told him to follow a slow pace when finding out things about himself, he had the urge to rush everything. He wanted to know about his family, about those guys that had been visiting him at the hospital, and about that basketball team in which he played.

He tried to calm himself down, joining his shaky hands together, and slowly headed towards the kitchen, where his mother found herself rearranging some dishes. His legs felt weak for some reason, and he came to the conclusion that maybe he should try sleeping some more, instead of focusing so much on his past. Yet at the same time he wanted to know, the earlier the better.

-May I help with something, Aiko-san? - he asked, keeping his tone as gentle as he could, trying to hide his distress from her, and the woman turned to him, with a tired expression yet trying to put on a small smile.

-You don’t need to - the woman nodded, and as soon as she saw the look in Hanamiya’s eyes, cold and somewhat stressed, just like him, she knew that something was going on with him. - Anyway, did you want something else? You can ask me whatever you’d like to know, Makoto.

But Hanamiya wasn’t sure if asking her would be the right decision. Sure, he wanted to get all those doubts out of his head, and, even if he still was unable to recall his mother after asking, he wanted to make sure, at least, that he was living with someone he could rely on.

He sat on one of the chairs placed near the end of the table, watching as his mother finished rearranging some cuttery. Her last sentence was enough for anxiety to emerge into his mind, and he looked at the floor, waiting for the right moment to ask her. Hanamiya was well-aware that he didn’t have to ask her just now, and that waiting until he found himself more relaxed and actually willing to ask was an option, yet a growing impulse told him to ask her right away.

He gulped, and brought both of his hands to his chin, showing a thoughtful stance, when in reality, he wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. Instead, he was looking for the sentence to use once he asked her.

-Actually, there’s something that got me thinking for a few weeks.

Who knows if Hanamiya might actually be able to ask her. Not only he’s unsure about how she might react towards his question, but at the same time, there’s something -a faint voice on his mind, trying to speak for him- telling him that he’s going to hurt her. And, deep down, Hanamiya thinks that perhaps he’s doing something wrong, and that the woman has a fragile side too.

Raising her head at him, the woman finished rearranging the kitchen, fixing her hair as Hanamiya looks at her with a tired expression, blinking repeatedly, and given his stance, she wants to ask him if there’s something wrong, but at the same time, doesn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

She sat in front of her son, resting her arms on the table without saying a word, and Hanamiya chose to avoid eye contact. Hanamiya felt like she was ready for any upcoming question, and, without hesitating, he went for it.

-Miss - he raised his gaze, keeping eye contact for a few seconds before looking down again -, are we, perhaps, relatives?

Those words struck the woman right in her soul, and hundreds of anecdotes and small stories about Hanamiya’s childhood flashed on her mind, with her barely noticing. True, Hanamiya still hadn’t recalled her at all, and talked to her on a respectful, polite way, fairly different from the one which he used to talk most of the time, but it hit as hard as a “mum” would do.

She wouldn’t cry in front of her son, though. After his father left, she had devoted her entire life to Hanamiya and was well-aware that Hanamiya thought about her as a strong-willed woman, someone he looked up to. In the end, they had many things in common, even more than both of them thought, and she, too, didn’t like to show glances of her fragile side, even though she’d told Hanamiya many times that it was in weakness where someone’s strength lied.

On the other side, while Hanamiya felt slightly relieved after asking her, he couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if he’d made a huge mistake. Judging by the look in her eyes, it seemed like Hanamiya’s question had bothered her, and he internally blamed himself, willing to apologize if it was needed.

As soon as the hour hand marked the 9th number, its rigid sound resonating throughout the kitchen, Hanamiya stood up, about to apologize to his mother, feeling like it would be the best choice. But, when he saw the steady look on her eyes, along a firm stance and arms resting on the table, almost as if she was judging him, he sat back, and he still felt like he’d made a mistake.

-Look at me, Makoto.

And, as much as he didn’t want too, given the situation he’d gotten himself into, Hanamiya looked straight into her eyes. He wouldn’t regret it. She didn’t look angry. She looked intimidating, to say the least, and Hanamiya wasn’t able to find any traces of anger in her eyes.

Instead, he found warmth all over her silver eyes, and soon found himself immersed in her gaze. She wasn’t angry at him. She didn’t pity him (why would she?). In fact, she was as calm as ever, and she even smiled at him, trying to comfort him.

Soon, Hanamiya lowered his gaze and breathed slowly, less anxious than before. He was ready for whatever the outcome would be.

-Not only we’re relatives, but - she extended her arm, quietly opening her pale hand, and Hanamiya’s immediate response was to reach for it, placing his hand on hers, and the unique warmth of her touch was enough to soothen him -, in fact, I’m your mother. And you’re my son.

Even if Hanamiya hadn’t remembered her yet, he felt at home.

···

-And I don’t quite remember her yet, but, apparently, I’m her son.

Hanamiya’s eyes were fixed on the café’s menu, searching for some beverage he might like, and as he explained his previous conversation to Seto, said man finished his coffee and placed the cup back on the table, bringing his hands together as Hanamiya finished speaking.

Seto’s intentions merely included talking to Hanamiya and getting to spend some time with him again. While he was well-informed in amnesia and its many types, he still wondered about certain things, which included Hanamiya’s intelligence and if it had been affected by the accident. Even though he’d come to the conclusion that Hanamiya’s intelligence remained the same as always, he still had doubts regarding this.

-It shouldn’t matter to you if you don’t remember her yet - he smiled, playing around with a teaspoon, and Hanamiya hesitated for a second before raising his head at him, fairly surprised by his words. - But you have a family, and that’s what matters. There’s someone that cares for you, even if you don’t think so.

Grinning, Hanamiya tried to adjust himself to that chair, and internally complained about how uncomfortable it was, averting his eyes from the menu as he looked for a decent position. It had caught the attention of many people to see Hanamiya Makoto, one of today’s most sucessful authors, struggling to find a comfortable position on a chair, and some of them even stood up to take some photos of this.

Seto had brought Hanamiya to a fairly unknown café that only him seemed to recognize, placed near his home, hoping that nobody would bother either of them. But it was happening right now, and, regardless of his immense patience, Seto stood up, placing his hands on the table and looking around the whole place. All of this happened in the blink of an eye and Hanamiya barely noticed, as he kept looking for a beverage he could enjoy.

He too was bothered by those people, twitching his eyes at the rapid lights that flashed on his eyes, hoping they would soon be over. That was one of the many risks Hanamiya hadn’t been aware of while his books turned into best-sellers and he slowly became famous between all those amateur authors; that people not only would stop him all the time to ask about autographs, but people could take photographs of him at any given moment, was he at a convention or just hanging out at a small, hidden café.

As the waiter walked towards their table, Hanamiya politely asked him to tell those customers to stop taking pictures of him and his friend, as it felt uncomfortable, perhaps embarrassing. Afterwards, he frowned at Seto, asking him to stop behaving like that, adding that he was being rather impolite, and Seto _had_ to obey him, just like the old times.

-Excuse me - Seto’s expression shifted into a relaxed yet serious one, and the waiter retired his espresso from the table. His eyes found a distracted Hanamiya in front of him, gazing at a small bouquet placed on a table near theirs, and he cautiously closed them. - Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?

-Not really. Guess I just wanted to distract myself for a while.

Seto perfectly understood him, yet he was unable to compare his last year of University with something as serious as amnesia was. But, unlike Furuhashi, who kept distracting himself at the mere thought of Hanamiya calling his name and suddenly saw high school flashbacks in front of him, Seto had almost left all of that in the past, and it didn’t bother him whether Hanamiya ended up recalling him soon or later.

He lowered his gaze as Hanamiya turned to the very same waiter that had attended him before. Nobody was taking pictures of them anymore, and they could finally take a break, yet Seto was well-aware that some of those pictures would later wander around various social media, and he secretly felt sorry for this, because he just couldn’t do a single thing about this.

The waiter placed a small glass of water with ice cubes inside and a small straw, and Hanamiya liked how the water distorted the straw’s image, staring as the ice cubes danced inside the liquid as he waited for them to melt. Meanwhile, Seto placed his Calculus notebook on the table, turning page by page until he reached the most recent equations.

-Is that perhaps your homework?

-It is - Seto spoke, picking up a small pen from his shirts’ pocket and opened it, placing its cap back in the pocket. - Our current equations include both transcendental numbers and algebra, and, while I can understand them, sometimes I struggle with solving them.

-So, you’re taking a Calculus career. I see - he chuckled. - Did you perhaps learn anything regarding the Diophantine approximation?

Barely impressed by his sudden words, Seto fixed his sharp gaze on the notebook, merely paying any attention to Hanamiya. Back when they attended high school, Seto would’ve been more than surprised if Hanamiya had approached him like that, even willing to ask Hanamiya to solve any of his equations. But it had caught him off guard once again.

Not even after 5 long years Seto’s inferiority complex towards Hanamiya had vanished. He had almost overcome it by now, but as soon as he heard Hanamiya mention the Diophantine approximation, a topic he’d merely heard about while studying transcendental numbers, he found out that Hanamiya’s intelligence remained the same as back then, or perhaps it had increased.

Suddenly, Seto felt like testing Hanamiya for a while, and raised his head, placing his chin on his hand and tilted his head, half-smirking, showing an interested look in his eyes, and Hanamiya knew what was coming.

-Continue as you please.

Clearing his throat, Hanamiya spoke, not paying too much attention to Seto or the topic he’d chose to talk about.

-Since you’re currently studying transcendental numbers and solving equations related to them, it’s mostly like as if you’ll soon learn about Diophantine approximation, and they might teach you about the subspace theorem if they haven’t already. Perhaps they’ll mention the Liouville number, but don’t trust me.

After he was done, Hanamiya leaned to take a quick look at Seto’s notes. They were almost illegible, with messy writing that barely looked like Japanese to him. He eventually figured out a bunch of kanji and some hiragana, yet he still couldn’t read some of Seto’s handwriting.

-I’m just curious - Seto spoke as he wrote down everything that Hanamiya had mentioned, merely raising his gaze at him. - How’s that you know that much about Mathematics?

-I knew you’d ask that - he tilted his head, and Seto joined his fingers together for a moment, holding the pen between his index and his thumb upon listening to him. - Since high school maths used to be fairly easy to me, sometimes I chose to read and analyze University-ranked books. They were easy too, yet, surprisingly, I had to focus to learn some concepts.

Exactly. Seto still wasn’t surprised at this, because he too had done something alike. It was easy to get bored when you were a genius, specially when you already knew about all the content they explained at class and you had no choice but read harder, higher-leveled books that probably went far beyond your current level.

Of course, it didn’t happen to every genius, but it did happen to both Seto and Hanamiya, specially to the latter one, as he sometimes spent an overwhelming amount of time looking for books what went beyond his level, and he still was able to understand them. 

But being a genius was much more than an unsatiable curiosity and an obvious advantage over your classmates. This included questioning your own intelligence and skills upon meeting someone as skilled, even more than you, and Seto was a good example of this.

-I see - he silently spoke, closing his notebook. - Will you order anything, though?

-Not really - Hanamiya tilted his head. - Thought you just wanted to talk.

And yes, Seto did want to talk, but felt like their conversation had been to short to refer to it as a “conversation”. Yet he’d enjoyed hearing Hanamiya’s loud, nasal voice once again.

He’d probably need some help with his homework, though.

···

“so basically, your conversation with hana-chan was utter crap”

“dude you did shit for him to recall you, seriously wtf”

“dont you want little hana-chan to remember you? because i want that midget to remember me and the whole club. what the fuck taro-chan”

Hara’s grammar was as careless and dumb as usual, followed by a swarm of kaomoji and emoticons that Seto almost couldn’t bear. And he was wrong in many things: Seto did want Hanamiya to recall him, and to refer to him as ‘Kentaro’ once again. But it was undeniable that Seto was far more mature than anyone on the team, specially Hara and Yamazaki, and he didn’t want to force Hanamiya to remember him.

He began typing on his phone, carefully thinking about a speech that even Hara could understand.

“In fact, I do want him to recall us, but I don’t want to rush it or force him to. Have you not researched about amnesia, not even the smallest bit?”

“Also, rather than just triggering his memories out of the blue, it would be better to follow a slow pace and just being ourselves. That way, it’ll be easier to trigger his memories instead of rushing everything.”

Hara’s response was almost immediate, as if he hadn’t fully read his messages. He raised an eyebrow upon this, squinting his eyes upon his phone so he could actually read the text.

“wow i knew you looked like an old man but i didnt know you WERE an old man holy shit”

“but your advice kinda makes sense like, if im with both hana-chan and zaki, and i play a prank on zaki, you think hana-chan will remember me? does it work like that? :0c”

A tired Seto leaned back on his chair, half-smirking at the message he’d just gotten. It didn’t exactly work like that, yet maybe Hara wasn’t as dumb as he think he was.

“also dunno about amnesia but i know that hana-chan doesnt know whats going on most of the time ;0”

“gotta go back to practice, our bassist keeps fucking up. see you ~”

All of a sudden, Seto became curious about how Hara would react towards Hanamiya if they ever met. Perhaps he would behave as the prankster he was, or he’d soften up both his behavior and his actions. But it was mostly like as if Hara would be more than the silly, childish prankster he knew.

···

On the other side, Hanamiya lied on his bed, a book placed near his ribs, slowly breathing and staring at the book as it moved up and down, and the room itself was totally silent, the sound of their TV barely making it through. Hanamiya could barely hear the faint sound of the TV, and judging by what he was able to hear, he thought about some kind of slice of life show.

He clearly heard someone mention the word 'family’ with a loud, cheerful tone, and it slightly reminded him of what took place during that morning.

-Family, huh - he whispered, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. And he didn’t feel like he belonged to that place: in fact, he knew that he belonged to that place, yet barely had any clue about that woman.

_She mentioned that she’s my mother, though._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phlox - can mean both "harmony" and "sweet dreams".
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> (Also, school starts next week and I'll have little to no time to write, so excuse any future slow update!)


	8. 健太郎 (Kentaro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya's intelligence hasn't changed a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so school began again and I'm trying my best to actually share my time between studying and writing.
> 
> Don't know what else should I say, but I had to ruin my sleep schedule to finish this, so the ending may seem a bit rushed. I apologize for that, and I also apologize for any possible grammar mistakes.

-Mind if I practice for a while?

After practice was over, Hanamiya would often stay at the team's gym rearranging sheets and writing down diverse analysis about his teammates. He would've never expected one of his teammates to stay after practice, nor to exercise more than usual. Because that was the captain's duty. No matter how hard, he always had to be one step ahead of his team.

So, when this well-known second year walked up to him and asked him said question, placing his bag on a bench near them, Hanamiya almost questioned him why he would do something like that. Their practice schedule was already ridiculous, and some players had even left the team because they couldn't endure it. Reason why he almost cackled at the boy after he made his request.

-You sure about this, Kojiro? - He grinned, biting his thumb as he kept writing down on his notebook, and Kojiro squinted, well-aware of his decision. He had only been at the basketball team for three months, but Hanamiya already considered him one of his favorite players because of a certain reason. - I wouldn't mind, but, shouldn't you focus on your exams?

-Actually, I'm quite good when managing my time. Also - he raised his head, dead eyes fixed in olive-green ones, and Hanamiya could easily tell that he'd gotten quite an interesting player on his team -, didn't you want players whose foundations were in place?

Frowning, he grinned at Kojiro. What Hanamiya didn't know was that Kojiro had other reason as why he wanted to stay longer than usual. It wouldn't be the only time he chose to stay after practice, nor the last one, because it not only helped him improve both his skills and foundations towards basketball. Deep inside, he wanted to get to know Hanamiya.

They'd been classmates since their first year of school, but the only times they got to talk and spend time together were when Hanamiya spent some time at the school's library, with Kojiro trying to find interesting books for him to read.

It wasn't until their second year when Kojiro began talking to him. He wasn't any shy, but all those years without talking to people because of many reasons had left a huge mark on him. The first time they talked, he'd expected Hanamiya to just ignore him, given the fact that they were really different people, so it was no wonder as why his jaw almost dropped when Hanamiya replied to him, half-smirking.

-Fine. Do whatever you want, but we'll be leaving at half past eight - his voice remained stoic as he stood up, his lips became dry as each second passed and he placed the sheets back on the table, watching as Kojiro began to warm up.

For Kojiro, it felt more like a poorly made-up excuse to get to spend some time with Hanamiya. And he wouldn't deny it: he did want to spend time with Hanamiya, but just asking him out of the blue would be more than rude, and it was mostly like as Hanamiya would probably laugh at him if he did. No, Kojiro still was unable to fully understand Hanamiya's personality, yet he chose to follow him and his orders for some reason. Perhaps to gain his respect, or some reason he still hadn't found out.

···

It was one of those days in which Kojiro would spend a quiet day at home, helping his little sister with her homework. Wrapped by nothing but the dim morning light that came from the outside, along a warm gust of wind, Kojiro sat near their garden, gazing at a group of pink roses gathered near the corner.

His little sister was right: ever since that accident took place, he couldn't but think about all those years that he and Hanamiya spent together at high school. Once again, he recalled their graduation and the way he thanked Hanamiya before he left. Really, if Hanamiya hadn't mentioned anything regarding the 5-year rule, then Furuhashi could've confessed to him soon or later.

Still, Kojiro never knew the reason as why Hanamiya thought about that rule. Perhaps he was no longer interested in his teammates, or he just needed some time for himself. Something Hanamiya didn't mention regarding said rule was that it was fine if teammates met between each other. His 5-year rule only stated that they shouldn't meet again as a group until 5 years had passed since that moment, yet he forgot to mention that last part.

He knew this because, four years ago, after Hanamiya's first novel got published, said man decided to call him, half-teasing Furuhashi because of the news, almost bragging about his newly-published book. Back then, Kojiro almost asked him about the 5-year rule, but kept talking to Hanamiya, as it was mostly like they wouldn't meet after a few years.

And, surprisingly, Kojiro was _right_.

Once again, he gazed at his garden, and the sunlight reflected on his empty eyes, painting small, golden stars over an empty canvas. A birds' chirps helped him relax, yet it wasn't enough, as many thoughts were wondering around his mind, and he was unable to soothe himself. Lowering his head, he fixed his gaze on the same spot, and those thoughts suddenly gathered together as one.

But it was thanks to that wonderful scenery, created by none other than his own mother, that Kojiro managed to dispel those thoughts, and, eventually, relieve his ongoing headache. Slowly raising his head, he took yet another glimpse at that garden. Mainly composed by pale-toned flowers and beautifully rearranged, a small white camellia that, for some reason, had grown near a corner, was the first thing that caught his attention.

Suddenly, all the flowers and plants danced along a small gust of wind. It managed to reach Kojiro, too, but he wasn't amused at all, yet it was enough to avert his gaze from the camellia. He barely reacted to this, and he just adjusted his glasses, embraced by nothing but a clear blue sky which still fascinated him as much as the very first day he saw it. Fragments of childhood memories showed up, and it drew a small, faint smile on Kojiro's face.

As soon as he stood up, willing to take a closer look at the camellia (as he hadn't done before, and wanted to examine that flower for a while), when his little sister called, and her voice caught him off-guard, quickly turning to her as he recalled the very first reason as why he chose to visit home that day.

···

-Koji, are you really going to help?

No, he wasn't. As much as she or their parents asked, Kojiro had never mentioned anything regarding that incident, no matter how much they would insist. At first, his little sister, Sanae, thought that perhaps all of his projects and exams were distressing him, but she eventually began suspecting about her older brother.

Something Kojiro didn't know was that his little sister actually knew about the news. At least, she knew about the accident, but she had no idea about the victim. She'd asked Kojiro about the accident before, but there was no response. Kojiro wouldn't say anything, and the wretched look that showed in his eyes each time she asked him made it all even more suspicious. And, now that Kojiro got to spend some time at home, Sanae wouldn't miss that opportunity, regardless if Kojiro chose to ignore her again.

Kojiro startled before those words, skipping a heartbeat, and he almost jumped out of bed, almost unaware of the fact that his little sister was there. He sighed, placing himself near the beds' edge, and he played around with his hands, repeatedly rubbing them against each other, and while it managed to soothe him, it still wasn't enough.

Meanwhile, Sanae closed her Biology book, placing it over the notebook and turned to her older brother. While she was more than used to her brother's apathetic, almost-clueless behavior, she'd noticed many changes just after that accident took place. Kojiro had never mentioned anything regarding Hanamiya's status to his family, nevermind all the trips he made to the hospital.

His dead eyes were fixed on the floor, his hands joined together and his thumbs were softly pressed against each other, and while his stance seemed stoic at times, he clearly was worried about something. Sanae wasn't really different from her brother (like him, she chose to barely show any feelings, and she too enjoyed gardening), so it was fairly easy for her to tell if something was wrong with her brother.

-Excuse me - he raised his head, his gaze still fixed on the floor, and his little sister couldn't but click her tongue at him. - You didn't say anything, though, so I-

-It's about that friend of yours, right?

Kojiro wasn't expecting less from her. In fact, he'd been waiting for his sister to ask something like that, so he wasn't exactly surprised. While they were siblings, Sanae was somewhat different from Kojiro, as she sometimes replied to either him or their parents on a mean way, and could even be rude at times, which reminded Kojiro about himself during high school.

He stood up, and as much as he wanted to keep it a secret from his family, Kojiro almost knew that his little sister would insist until he gave the smallest of hints; until he finally decided to confess the many reasons that had been worrying him for the entire last month.

For a moment, he sets his gaze on hers; the darkest of nights colliding against each other, and it's the first time Kojiro doesn't immediately break his gaze from someone else's. Sanae's legs are crossed, and her back is pressed against a pillow firmly placed in the seat's back, and for Kojiro it feels like as if she's looking down on him. But she isn't, and all she wants is her bigger brother to confess and, perhaps, vent for a while.

Kojiro didn't exactly want to vent, though.

-Guess I'll have to tell you, then. First of all - squinting his eyes, he sat back on the bed, now slightly closer to his little sister, and she just hoped that Kojiro's explanation wasn't too long -, remember Hanamiya?

For a brief moment, Sanae's lips curved into such a tiny smile that even she didn't notice.

-That eyebrow guy? - Tapping her feet against the floor, she turned away from her brother for a dull moment in order to rearrange her desk, and Kojiro suddenly blinked at a small flicker of light that reflected on his glasses. - Sure. You were always praising him, and you two seem to be really close to each other. It's almost unbelievable.

It wasn't any surprise that Sanae giggled at Kojiro's reddened cheeks. But Kojiro had to admit it: it wasn't just the way he talked about Hanamiya, but his behavior towards him was _weird_ , even interesting at times, to the point even Hanamiya himself began to suspect about this. Just recalling a single scene from those times was enough to embarrass himself to the point that he turned to the side, in order to hide his face from his sister. His expression remained as monotone and indifferent as always, though.

But, then again, he wouldn't deny the fact that Hanamiya had been someone really important to him. After all, he was the very first person he thought about as a friend, and one of the few people that he'd truly felt connected to.

-You've heard about the accident that took place at Yamashita Street back in June, right? - He asked, tapping his fingers on the bed, and suddenly, Sanae recalled something regarding that incident.

-Wait - she gasped, immediately turning her chair in order to take a better look at her brother, and he looked back at her. Such a surprised look on her face obviously meant something. - Wasn't that the guy from the accident?

Kojiro silently nodded at her, and he recalled the day in which that accident took place. He hadn't expected something like that to happen, specially after unexpectedly meeting with Hanamiya at a small café. Right now, it didn't matter whether he could've prevented it or not, since those days were over and Hanamiya was back, yet he wasn't exactly in the best condition.

-There you go - Kojiro muttered, with the same clueless expression as always, and he could almost foretell what his sister was thinking. Turning back to the table, the girl clicked her tongue again in annoyance, hardly frowning, and Kojiro lowered his head once again. - I know, I should've let you know before about this. It's a stupid reason, isn't it.

Before Sanae could say anything, she withdrew herself in her mind, trying to look for a decent response to this. It wasn't a dumb reason; it was coherent, yet she felt like Kojiro exaggerated a little bit about it. She boringly tapped her pencil against her notebook, her lightless eyes watching as the pencil left small spots on its white surface each time it collided against the sheet, almost following its movements.

While they had similar personalities, it was harder than expected for Sanae to communicate with her older brother. Perhaps it had to do with Kojiro's apathetic behavior, which was slightly different from hers, or with the fact that he was the kind of person to ignore and bottle up his feelings. But Sanae wouldn't be expecting such a thing coming from her brother, so she chose to dismiss that idea. Suddenly, she left the pencil back besides her notebook, and, slowly, she turned back to her brother, unfolding her legs and fixing her eyes in his once again.

-It's not a stupid reason, Koji - she sighed, catching her brothers' attention. - As long as your friend is alright, you should be thankful. But, I feel like there's more to this that what you're telling me.

When Kojiro chose to help Sanae with her homework, he was expecting small questions about diverse Chemistry terms, and him looking up several chemical substances on the Internet. He wasn't expecting their conversation to almost turn against him, and he wasn't expecting Sanae to ask such questions and behave like that. He didn't see himself dwelling in that incident. He didn't expect to almost hear Yamazaki's voice again, echoing in his ears, being reminded about the accident.

But maybe being reminded about those moments and the incident itself wasn't that bad. After all, it kind of helped him to share his issues with his family, which was something he didn't do too often.

Once again, he lowered his gaze, and it was undeniable that he would end up telling her about the entire issue. It wouldn't bother Kojiro if his parents knew too, since they've always been really supportive of him, even when he didn't notice. He removed some locks of hair from his face, and a tiny glimpse of life showed up in his eyes as he stood up. His arms felt heavy, and his lower back hurt, but he ignored all of this, lifting up his glasses.

-If you really want to know, then I won't refuse to talk. The thing is - he spoke as he walked towards the door, internally summarizing his upcoming explanation, and Sanae wondered if he really was going to help her with her homework at all -, it was reported that Hanamiya woke up with amnesia. Retrograde amnesia, concretely. The doctor also mentioned that perhaps he won't be able to recover all of his memories. Because of this, his former teammates and me gathered together again, in order to help him recover properly. That's all I can tell you by now.

Sanae didn't exactly know how to react towards this. Her expression softened, almost shifting into a weary one. She wasn't that different from her brother in terms of feelings, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that Kojiro had been deeply affected by such an event. She wasn't sure on how to respond to this, given the fact that she didn't want to offend her brother the slightest.

Meanwhile, Kojiro looked at her, slightly concerned. For some reason, he felt sorry for her, as if he'd said something too harsh. It was a feeling almost unknown to him. Perhaps it was empathy; perhaps he finally got to understand his own feelings, even though he did it through his sisters'. While he'd cried more than once, Kojiro wasn't someone to pay attention to his own feelings, yet he'd slowly began to realize that perhaps it wasn't as bad as he thought.

-...I see - she turned back to her desk as her brother opened the door. Sanae couldn't tell whether Kojiro was going to tell his father about this too, or if he wasn't interesting in helping her anymore. Right when Kojiro was about to exit her room, Sanae turned to him once again, somewhat annoyed. - Anyway, Koji, are you gonna help me at all?

-I am - he cracked a faint smile at her, and for Sanae it seemed like her brother had finally began learning about emotions and how to express them -, I just wanted to pick a glass of water.

···

With a dazzling Sun ruling above a tangerine-dyed sky, almost hiding behind a group of buildings enveloped by a fascinating sunset, with small purple tones that beautifully contrasted with it, Hanamiya made his way to the nearest bookstore he knew. At least, he tried, because he didn't know where was he heading at all.

It'd been almost two hours since he went on which could be one of his longest walks so far, and he had no idea about his whereabouts. Not only that, but he'd also forgot that he owned a phone, so he left it at home. He'd also left a worrying mother at home, who kept telling herself that her son would be alright. By that moment, she'd realized that Hanamiya could barely orientate between the endless streets of Tokyo, and she was almost blaming herself at this point.

He wasn't looking at the sunset. In fact, he was staring at the dozens of buildings that were scattered around him. Such tall, majestic buildings, scratched the sky, beaten by nothing but a sunset that was more than enough to amaze him. Once Hanamiya lowered his gaze, he suddenly realized that he was lost. He didn't recognize any of those buildings or shops around him, and people stared at him as if he was some kind of stranger, while some of them managed to recognize him.

However, it didn't matter how many people recognized him, because none of them stopped to talk or help him. Some teenagers took photos of him, and while he didn't notice at first, he eventually did. Hanamiya didn't call out their behavior; instead, he wanted to find some place where he could rest at.

He'd been walking around for almost two hours and didn't know how to go back home, so it was no wonder as why he was that tired. His legs felt heavy, as if they were about to break at any moment, which, at the same time, would be quite ironic, and he was slowly running out of breath. It almost hurt to blink, as his eyelids felt heavy too, and small sweatdrops slowly slid through his cheeks, his forehead being totally soaked in sweat. Hanamiya had almost forgotten about summer, which he considered his least favorite season, and what a fierce season it could be.

So, when he finally managed to find a bench, placed nearby a park that seemed unknown to him, Hanamiya felt heavily relieved. He wished that he had some kind of towel or anything alike to brush away his sweat, and his tired eyes looked all around the place. He saw many trees painted along that astonishing sunset from before, yet the sunset was now blending into a darker purple shade, keeping some ginger tones, and the trees looked like silhouettes in contrast to it, while the sun had already disappeared in between some buildings. Many children were playing near the park's playground, and Hanamiya wasn't bothered the slightest by them.

Hanamiya had to confess that he loved that scenery, though. If he'd brought some sort of notebook with him, it could've been a nice reference for a small drabble. Which reminded him that he no longer was writing down anything he recalled on the notebook that was given to him during his stance at the hospital. Hanamiya's mother already knew that it might turn out to be like this, so she chose to keep the notebook, even if it didn't seem like to be the best option.

When a bigger silhouette blocked Hanamiya's view, he tilted his head, squinting at it on an annoyed way, until he saw a pair of sharp, dark-grey eyes with small hazel undertones gazing at him. As the silhouette withdrew itself, Seto showed himself in front of Hanamiya, who actually was surprised upon seeing him, since he hadn't seen any school or university nearby. At least, he hadn't paid too much attention to those buildings.

-Makoto - a hoarse voice muttered, and Hanamiya half-recognized the man in front of him, starting with his strange forehead mole -, you got lost?

···

It just happened that the park in which Hanamiya was resting at was fairly close to Seto's home, and Seto himself decided to go on a walk to clear his mind. It'd been almost a coincidence that Seto had noticed him at the park, and picked him up afterwards in order to take him home.

-You didn't bring a phone? - The taller man asked, and he thought about holding Hanamiya's hand just in case he got lost once again. - You really need one of those, Makoto. Perhaps you still keep that one phone you owned during high school, but, in any case, I'll ask your mother.

Silently nodding, Hanamiya kept following Seto's steps, and hoped that he wouldn't get lost like he did before. Never he'd asked himself before, as he walked, if his mother had been worrying about him during his absence. He still couldn't refer to that woman as "mother" without feeling a small glimpse of pain on his voice. Maybe he still hadn't gotten used to said name, or maybe he was doing the right thing. But, then again, just saying that word was strange enough to him, perhaps even melancholic.

As they made their way through many empty streets, Hanamiya got reminded of a small sheet of paper that someone (which was actually Kojiro) left in his room. It was actually a schedule, which Kojiro had made for Hanamiya little before he got discharged from the hospital, and Hanamiya hadn't noticed its existence until now. On the other side, Hanamiya's perception of time was almost gone at this point, and only when the sky turned pitch black and he began to yawn was when he went to bed.

-I don't recall owning some kind of technological device or anything alike - a worn-out Hanamiya asked as he glanced at Seto, and the younger man couldn't help but chuckle at him, as he'd already expected that kind of response. - Anyway, I thought I could find the bookstore myself. But, guess I was wrong.

Looking away from him, Seto found himself unable to come up with a single reply. Which was weird from him, as he would usually keep their conversation ongoing until one of them eventually got tired or he felt the need to stop. Perhaps he just wanted to share a long walk to Hanamiya's home instead of just talking all over and over. He couldn't come up with any interesting topics, and, of course, he kept in mind Hanamiya's condition. The only topic he could come up with had to do with books and writing, and everything Seto had been reading lately had to do with equations.

From their previous talk, Seto had found out that Hanamiya's intelligence hadn't been affected the least by the accident, and that, just like in high school, he wasn't near as smart as Hanamiya was. Along this, he got reminded of that small conversation he and Hara shared days ago, and a small idea came to his mind. Sure, it wasn't the smartest idea, and he would almost contradict himself by executing it. But, right now, Seto was far more confident with himself than he'd ever been during high school, and he could almost tell that it would work.

-As soon as we're home, I'll ask your mother. You should apologize to her, though.

After this comment, Hanamiya realized that he'd been doing something wrong. He hadn't considered anything regarding his mother nor her feelings when he thought about visiting the bookstore. Therefore, it was almost undeniable that he would feel bad towards this, and Hanamiya silently lowered his head, rather disappointed on himself.  
Suddenly, he thought about how he could've possibly hurt his mother.

···

As soon as he got back home, his mother received him with a concerned expression, perhaps a little frightened, and Hanamiya tried to understand the kind of mistake he'd just made. However, the first one to apologize was none other than Seto, claiming that he should've called home as soon as he'd spotted Hanamiya.

Hanamiya knew that he should apologize to her. He slowly realized his mistake; he'd gone outside for almost three hours without telling his mother beforehand, willing to find a small bookstore even though he barely could guide himself through the city. Not only that, but his mother also commented that he could've gotten himself into trouble. That getting lost wasn't the worst thing that could've happened to him.

All of the sudden, Hanamiya recalled a small scene that he'd witnessed during his stance at the hospital. He recalled seeing people caressing their friends and relatives' heads as soon as they started feeling anxious. And, even though he didn't exactly know what this meant, Hanamiya assumed that stroking his mother's head would be alright. And so he did.

That charming look he saw in his mother's eyes after he withdrew himself was more than enough to improve his mood. And, really, Hanamiya probably hadn't seen such gorgeous eyes until that moment. Of course, they were similar to his in many ways, yet the womans' eyes were full of hope and stars, and Hanamiya could barely put into words how fascinating her expression was. That woman was far more cheerful than Hanamiya could ever be.

-It's alright - she replied, with such a kind smile that could reawaken some of Hanamiya's most distant memories. This, of course, managed to soothe him, yet he still felt somewhat guilty (Hanamiya could barely describe how it felt like). The woman then turned to the kitchen. - But, if you ever want to go outside again, you should call one of the boys. Or, I could go out with you if you wanted.

Hanamiya felt like he could believe in those people.

···

-It's true that amnesia usually heals itself, but - Seto spoke, gulping as he picked up a small biscuit from the basket -, it's mostly like as if he won't regain all of his lost memories.

The woman already knew about this. Instead of just breaking down because of her sons' condition, she chose to research about it and to try and find ways in which she could help her son. It was undeniable that she was heartbroken upon learning that her son had forgotten about her and most of his life, but, after almost 15 years taking care of him, she wouldn't just give up so easily.

They all sat around the kotatsu; Seto explained some additional information about amnesia to Hanamiya's mother, and she carefully listened to him. Meanwhile, Hanamiya had snatched Seto's notebook while he wasn't looking. He actually was kind of curious about Seto's notes and the younger man himself wouldn't mind if Hanamiya decided to read through his notes. He probably wouldn't be bothered if, somehow, Hanamiya corrected something. But Seto, being confident with himself and his intelligence, didn't think any of his equations was wrong.

-I see - the woman replied, and she crossed her arms, staring at a small vase placed near the window which contained a small daisy, and she squinted her eyes at it, with a serene smile. - For now, we should focus on what's truly important.

-His friends, his family, and, perhaps, high school?

-Pretty much. It's essential that he remembers about us, yet high school could be considered something secondary. Those memories, just like his childhood ones - her voice turned slightly warm as she caressed Hanamiya's arm, squeezing his shoulder afterwards, and Hanamiya didn't seem to notice her touch -, are slightly easier to trigger. Which doesn't mean that they're easier to trigger. I've thought about therapy too, but, personality, it'd be kind of controversial.

Seto knew, from his high school years, that Hanamiya's intelligence was beyond anything he could ever imagine. Of course, he'd never been able to beat him in terms of intelligence, and while he respected Hanamiya because of this, he also had to admit that he'd been jealous at times. Back then, Hanamiya noticed this, and he once almost told Seto that judging his worth based off his intelligence was dumb. But he didn't, and he assumed that Seto would eventually figure out by himself.

And he didn't. As for today, and, despite being one of the University of Tokyo's best students, Seto still felt inferior to Hanamiya. It was something that had been chasing him ever since he saw Hanamiya's true intellect. And he knew that he should just leave those memories and his inferiority complex behind, but, for some reason, he hadn't overcome it. Rather than looking up to him, he felt like Hanamiya was someone he had to surpass no matter what.

On the other side, Seto wasn't expecting Hanamiya's mother to be that cautious. He was already expecting her to research on amnesia and on how to improve Hanamiya's condition, but he didn't know that she was that perceptive. But, then again, she was Hanamiya's closest relative, so there wasn't any reason as why she would ignore his condition.

-Miss, you really do care for him - he laughed, and the woman shook her shoulders, gently chuckling back at him.

And, being almost as cautious as Hanamiya was, it was during moments like those when he noticed that he and his mother looked like each other more than he thought.

Meanwhile, Hanamiya spotted a small mistake in one of Seto's equations. It was relatively small mistake, of merely one digit, yet Hanamiya immediately found himself mentally solving said equation. He secretly found it quite challenging, but it ended up being easier than he thought.

Solving that equation reminded him of a small conversation he overheard during high school. He got reminded of Seto claiming that he wasn't nearly as smart as Hanamiya was, and that there was no way he would ever surpass him. For Hanamiya, it sounded like as if Seto was admitting that, compared to Hanamiya, he was on a very inferior lever.

After he was done with the equation, he frowned and tightened his ponytail, and took a deep sigh afterwards. His mother turned to him, slightly concerned, and so did Seto; in his case, he saw the equation and immediately knew that there was something going on with Hanamiya. He didn't thought about it as something bad; instead, he assumed that Hanamiya had something to say about his notes.

And, really, Hanamiya did have something to say, but not just about his notes.

- _Kentaro_ \- he raised his eyebrows upon the taller man, tilting his head towards Seto's notebook, and both him and Hanamiya's mother cracked a tiny smile, both proud of him -, if you keep assuming that you'll never beat me, then there's no way you'll show your true potential.

That comment made Seto realize the mistake he'd been making since high school. Even though he believed in himself and his intelligence, that faint feeling of insecurity and mediocrity had been chasing him for almost six years now. He'd barely tried to get rid of it, as it was always easier to just ignore it rather than confronting it directly.

He could just grin at Hanamiya, closing his notebook as both Hanamiya and his mother looked at him. As soon as their talk ended, he would go back to his university's residence. He didn't feel like staying for a while and having dinner with them, even though Hanamiya's mother would be totally alright with that and Hanamiya would probably not care at all. For some reason, he felt like as if he would bother them by staying over.

-By the way - he quickly picked up a biscuit, not showing any particular expression, and he seemed far more relaxed now, which was always a good sign -, that last equation you solved... Instead of minus 6, the solution was 6,32. You did fairly well applying any theories you've been asked to, yet it was a tiny mistake what made you fail the equation.

···

As soon as he went back to his room, the very first thing Seto did was checking that equation all over and over, until he managed to find that mistake. Yes, Hanamiya was right once again, but it didn't mean that Seto was less than him. Even Hanamiya himself had made mistakes he wasn't very proud of, but he chose to not say anything. Not because of embarrassment, but because he felt like it was better that way.

-I knew - Seto grinned, correcting his own equation, and one of his roommates almost woke up upon the sound of his voice.

On the other side, Seto was glad to hear Hanamiya refer to him by his name once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> White camellia - Waiting  
> Daisy - Faith
> 
> (Yes, that's hanakotoba right there. I really used to think that hanakotoba was something related to Hanamiya...)
> 
> Also, the whole Seto-Hanamiya relationship is way too hard for me. Even those weird equations seem easier to understand than their relationship.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	9. 虞 (Anxiety)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hara drops by at Hanamiya's house, and things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update before February ~.
> 
> Hara is clearly easier to write than Seto is :v. Also, yes, a long chapter. It could've been much longer, though, but, as I've said sometimes before (if you've checked my Tumblr), later chapters will get even longer. I won't spoil anything, but I've thought about the rest of the history. Now I just need to manage my time properly *sobs*.
> 
> Hopefully I'll finish this fic by June.
> 
> (Trigger warning for a panic attack later on.)

When Hanamiya woke up, the very first thing he heard was a faint bleep that came from a small alarm clock placed on his nightstand, near the lamp. His sleepy eyes glanced around the room, blinded by the sunlight that came from the window, and he was able to recognize a few things that weren’t there before. Such as the alarm clock from before, a schedule placed on the wall, right besides the bed, and he also noticed that his room was far more tidy than usual. He hadn’t bothered to clean his room, not even once, since he wasn’t sure on how to start.

He yawned, squinting his eyes as he pushed aside the thinnest of blankets, and he recalled one of the reasons as why he hated summer that much. Not just the blankets, but his pyjamas was also stained with sweat, and he became slightly disgusted at his t-shirt’s texture. Rather annoyed, Hanamiya lowered his head, and took a glimpse of one of his palms. Just like the sheets, it was sweaty, and its stickiness wasn’t helping either, so he rubbed both of his palms against the sheet, hoping it would help.

As he slowly raised from the bed, he turned to the schedule placed besides him, and he found out what he was doing wrong and what he was supposed to do. Written in the schedule, there were all kinds of activities (while most of them were basic), such as taking a shower and eating, along small notes and tips written in a small font, which Hanamiya could easily understand. Hanamiya’s entire body felt heavy, and he didn’t feel relieved at all; instead, it’d been hard for him to fall asleep last night, so he would probably go back to bed, unless something dazzled him enough to get him out of bed.

For now, he just rose out of bed, and complained about a dim backache that would soon be over. Hanamiya had also noticed that his hair had gotten longer, merely reaching his shoulders, and found it kind of annoying. And, once again, he took a glimpse of his room and noticed small details he hadn’t seen before, such as a crystal vase containing blue hydrangeas, and a small picture showing him and his former basketball team during their third year. He could only recognize Yamazaki and Seto, though.

After an entire week inhabiting that place, Hanamiya had slowly gotten used to it. His bed wasn’t as uncomfortable as the hospital’s stretcher was, and he appreciated it. Walking towards the vase, he tried to take a look at it, yet immediately stepped back as the sunlight that reflected on the vase blinded him. Instead, he brushed the hydrangeas’ petals, and liked its soft touch.

He took a peek at the schedule, and then turned to the clock. It marked 9 in the morning. The schedule stated that he should’ve had breakfast by then. Unlike other mornings, in which he woke up thanks to a strange, yet tasty smell that came from the kitchen and made its way through the entire hall. That day, he couldn’t hear the woman kindly humming from the kitchen, nor she calling his name, asking him to come down and have breakfast.

For some reason, Hanamiya began to feel worried. He walked downstairs as quickly as he could, and, just like he thought, there was nobody at the kitchen. However, there was a small note left on the table, which he easily noticed, along a small, light-blue hairtie, which Hanamiya thought that belonged to her. Initially, he thought about said note as something bad, and his confusion didn’t add to this. In order to dispel those doubts, he reached for said note and took a closer look at it.

“I have to solve some issues regarding you and your condition. I don’t want those journalists to keep dwelling on this entire topic, and, therefore, I don’t want you to feel bothered by all of this.

-Your mother.”

He placed the note back on a heartbeat, slightly relieved. Hanamiya perfectly understood what she’d meant by that. At the hospital, he’d heard his former teammates and his mother discussing the entire journalist issue, and wondering if they could stop it. They spoke about how people would start spreading false rumours about Hanamiya going on a hiatus due his amnesia, and, two of them (Yamazaki and Hara) were specially pissed off at this.

Of course, nobody told Hanamiya about any of this. None of them wanted Hanamiya to feel uneasy, nor they wanted to stress him, although he eventually found out himself after watching the news. And, days before, while walking through the streets without any sense of direction, he felt watched, and some people even took pictures of him as he made his way through. Not only that, but, the few times he’d gone outside, he (and his companions) had been chased by multiple cameras and journalists.

It reminded Hanamiya of the first time that he got chased by journalists. His first novel, “Wonder”, had just been published, and he was just 20 years old then. He hadn’t grasped the idea of ‘adulthood’ yet, and, while he hadn’t thought about becoming an author, Hanamiya had to thank his mother for that. He probably wouldn’t have been able to make the choice himself, as he still was trying to get used to the idea that he was an 'adult’, yet he’d thought about writing during high school.

He recalled rushing home after a small group of journalists, which carried many microphones, and a cameraman, spotted him at a small market near his home, while he was shopping for goods. As soon as he made it home, he told his mother to not open the door to anyone, since he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a bunch of strangers just now. It’d been the first time in which he felt the bitter taste of fame, and felt like he would never get used to such a feeling. Naturally, it wouldn’t be the only time he would feel like that.

Something that resonated to him from that flashback was the fact that, during that flashback, he’d referred to that woman as “mum” instead of “mother”. Hanamiya was still unable to fully recognize her. Despite this, something kept telling him that they were closer than he thought.

···

Shortly after Hanamiya finished his breakfast, someone rang the houses’ bell. First, it was just once, but he couldn’t attend them as he was busy cleaning up. Soon, the rings intensified, and Hanamiya’s patience began decreasing at an alarming rate. The doorbells’ rings reverberated in his ears and, as soon as he was done cleaning up the dishes, an annoyed Hanamiya finally opened the door.

He saw Hara before him, tangling his messy, black hair around his fingers, carrying a well-known smile and a phone almost as big as his hand, along a tiny bag. He waved at Hanamiya, and, judging by his smirk, Hanamiya could tell that Hara had something interesting to talk about. It was friday; however, Hara chose to only attend group practice at the evening, since he could rarely get to spend some time with him, let alone talking to him.

Hanamiya hadn’t noticed the small bag that he was carrying, though.

-G'morning, Hana-chan - his nickname quirk hadn’t changed at all and Hanamiya could just frown at him, wondering where he’d gotten that nickname from. - I mean, Hanamiya… I hope you don’t mind.

-It doesn’t really matter - Hanamiya tilted his head, pouting, and Hara thought that his current appearance (messy, greasy crow-like hair and a slightly oversized pajamas) was cute. Of course, he could’ve totally complimented Hanamiya on this, although he probably would make Hanamiya uncomfortable. - What brings you here?

Hara already knew that Hanamiya’s mother wasn’t home at the moment; minutes before, he’d gotten a message from her, claiming that she and Seto could solve those issues alone. He wasn’t planning on attending them himself, since he would just hang around and watch as a small group of people got involved in a long, boring discussion that didn’t bother him at all. He didn’t even have an argument. Everything Hara would say was that those people should respect Hanamiya’s privacy.

-Nothin’, just wanted to say hi. Anyway, mind if I enter?

A barely amused Hanamiya shook his shoulders, letting Hara inside home. He wondered if it was the right decision. Hara’s eyes were still hidden under that mess of hair which he referred to as 'bangs’, so he couldn’t judge his intentions by the look in his eyes. Still, Hanamiya felt like as if he could trust Hara, just like he did with the rest of the boys. He soon closed the door, hoping that no journalists saw either him or Hara.

Suddenly, an image of his room came to his mind, and Hanamiya noticed that there was something he forgot to see at that place.

···

-A phone?

Hanamiya blinked at the device placed on the kotatsu, and frowned his eyebrows upon it. On the other side of the kotatsu, Hara smirked at him, tapping his fingers against its surface, and hummed one of his own songs, waiting for Hanamiya to pick it up. And, while it didn’t exactly bother him, Hara would probably lose his patience at some point.

Hara was well-aware that he would have to teach Hanamiya to use that phone (which actually belonged to him during high school), in order to help him keep track of his duties and any upcoming events in general. He’d been the first one out of all the group to think about this, and, while he’d done it without thinking, Seto had to agree with him. And his excuse couldn’t have been more simple: he thought that Hanamiya would need some kind of device in which he could check the time.

-That’s right - he stopped tapping his fingers and brought his hands together, tilting his head with a curious smile, and Hanamiya’s sharp gaze shifted from the phone for a brief moment. - Not just a phone, but it’s your phone. There’s lots of stuff that you’ll surely recognize.

A restless Hara rubbed his hands together as Hanamiya picked the small device from the table. Soon, he joined his fingertips together, with his arms rested on the table and his hidden, electric-blue eyes stared at Hanamiya as the man tried to figure out how his phone worked.

It wasn’t exactly entertaining to watch. Hara’s anxiety, which had been increasing at an alarming rate ever since high school, suddenly came back. It had to do with the fact that he belonged to one of Japan’s most sucessful bands at the moment, and, because of that, there wasn’t any day in which loads of journalists and paparazzi wouldn’t knock at his door. That only added to his anxiety, and Hara himself wouldn’t be surprised if he exploded at any moment.

The 17-year-old Hara that longed for fame and wished to join a band more than anything else was no more. He regretted the kind of mentality he posessed back then. While his 17-year-old self just wanted to see his face in a magazine, his current self, one of today’s most sucessful musicians, simply yearned for a quiet moment alone. He just wanted to spend a single day without feeling overwhelmed by all those cameras and microphones behind him.

-Let’s see… - Hanamiya muttered, with his eyes fixed on the phone’s screen, and Hara’s thoughts and worries vanished abruptly. - Four, five, seven, eight, ten, twelve… Yes, I think it went like that.

Suddenly, Hara placed himself right next to Hanamiya, surrounding the man’s back with his arm and brought their bodies closer. Hanamiya’s head was placed near Hara’s cheek, and the latter had the sudden urge to place a tiny kiss on the smaller man’s forehead. But, then again, those urges belonged to his old self, and now that he’d grown up, he was more conscious about his actions, and slowly began to realize that his behavior didn’t cheer up everyone.

With his back pressed against Hara’s ribs, Hanamiya’s eyes were now fixed on his phone’s wallpaper. “It’s just him with Furu”, Hara thought to himself, until he recalled that Hanamiya had forgotten Furuhashi. On the other side, that wallpaper was a photo which Hanamiya took almost 7 years ago, so perhaps he wasn’t able to recognize himself. One of his thumbs was pointing towards the 'LINE’ icon, and so he pressed it.

What he saw before his eyes was more than enough to startle both him and Hara, who almost snorted at it. Not just because the amount of Hanamiya’s unread messages was immense, but the smaller man’s expression was priceless. At least he thought so on what he could see.

-4 messages from Taro-chan, 7 from Zaki, 25 from me, 9 from - he chuckled, and Hanamiya blinked once again as he frowned - mum, 2 from that weird glasses guy, 17 from that Mibuchi person, and…

-13 from - Hanamiya paused for a moment, trying to recognize the name which he was looking at - _Kojiro_.

-You can read those later, y'know - Hara commented, feeling each of Hanamiya’s moves as he accomodated himself.

Perhaps Hara wasn’t the right person to teach Hanamiya on how to use a phone (or, at least, make him remember how he was supposed to use it). Perhaps his only reason to drop by at Hanamiya’s house was that he wanted to spend some time with him, as he finally had some free time to spend alone. Maybe, out of all the group, he was the one that would contribute less.

That’s how Hara perceived himself. That’s how he’d seen himself through all those years; even after he joined the band, he never really thought that he could be any useful. Not even during that moment, with Hanamiya’s head slightly leaning towards his shoulder, almost being able to feel each one of his heartbeats against his own, knowing that even the smallest instruction would help Hanamiya, he felt like he could help at all.

By then, he’d surrounded Hanamiya with his arms, and his legs were spread around the smaller man. Hara was unsure whether it was the right choice, and deep inside, he wanted to ask Hanamiya if it was making him any uncomfortable. However, since Hanamiya didn’t seem to complain at all, Hara assumed that he was alright with it.

-Anyway - the crow-haired boy interrupted Hara’s thoughts once again -, weren’t you going to teach me how to use this?

For a dull moment, Hara almost forgot the main reason as why he decided to drop by at Hanamiya’s house. Not many things had changed about him since high school, and that was one of them. He clicked his tongue, aware that he should’ve told Hanamiya about his intentions as soon as he arrived at his home.

···

A few minutes after, Hara finally finished explaining the entire process to Hanamiya, who understood it more than perfectly. Hara was more than surprised upon seeing how accurately Hanamiya followed his instructions, to the point he even predicted what he was supposed to do next. Not only that, but Hanamiya never asked anything, nor it seemed like it was being hard to him.

At one point, Hara, the one that didn’t care that much about maturity and the entire 'growing up’ stuff, had the sudden urge to cuddle with Hanamiya, without any previous warning. Hanamiya would probably complain about this, and Hara knew. From high school he knew that Hanamiya just couldn’t deal with any kind of affection. He would react towards it in some of the weirdest ways. Sometimes he would react with a small giggle, but nothing moderately normal.

It was right there when someone knocked on the door. Before Hanamiya could stand up, Hara shushed at him. Something about that sent chills down his spine, and he couldn’t figure out why. He told Hanamiya to stay at the living room, as he could hear several noises coming from the outside that gave him a bad feeling. For him, it felt like as if there was a group of people waiting outside Hanamiya’s home.

As Hara made his way to the door, a curious Hanamiya peeked out from the door. Hara looked rather tense, and he hadn’t said anything from the moment he stood up, which wasn’t anything alike his usual self. Meanwhile, Hanamiya got distracted with his phone, as he wanted to note down any important dates on his phone’s calendar.

Hara gulped and slowly opened the door. His prediction became true, and, instantly, he regretted said choice. His eyes, hidden as always, popped wide open, and he almost stepped backwards upon seeing such a crowd in front of him. It was made up by, at least, 15 people, many of them carrying microphones and cameras, which were perhaps bigger than them. That so-familiar anxiety came back, once again, as a formally-dressed man brought a microphone close to him.

-Excuse me - he said, slowly raising his voice. - Does Hanamiya-san live here?

Hara slightly lowered his head.

-That’s right - he replied with a hoarse voice. He could perceive every single pictures the cameramen were taking, as they silently waited for Hanamiya to show himself. Hara’s anxiety only kept raising, just like his heartbeats, and he couldn’t help but feel sickened at those people, hoping they left as soon as possible.

-If he happens to be here, then, we’d like to ask him some questions. Would you mind?

-Yeah, he would totally mind - Hara growled at the man. Hanamiya was still hiding behind the living room’s door, not sure of what to do. - Really, can’t you just let him rest?

The man then showed a small signal to one of the cameramen behind him, who began to record. Hara already saw this coming, since that cameraman had been pointing at him all the time. That, plus all the microphones and the vast amount of cameramen gathered around the place, only added to his anxiety, and Hara had the urge to throw up. However, it seemed kind of ironic to him, since he’d survived many interviews before that.

But what was taking place at the moment was different from any interview Hara had given before.

-We’ll only make a few questions, I promise. We won’t need too much time. On the first place - once again, the man brought his microphone closer to Hara’s face, and he clicked his tongue -, is it true that Hanamiya-san was involved in an accident, and now has amnesia?

Luckily, Hara was no longer his 17-year old self.

-Yeah, he is - he replied unwillingly, sighing afterwards. - But, seriously, what do you want?

Then, a small woman, carrying another microphone, walked up to him. Hara had the sudden urge to ask them, not-so politely, to just leave, claiming that Hanamiya needed some time for himself. But Hara wouldn’t use any kind of violence, specially physical violence, unless those people forced him to.

-Hara-san - the woman kept a calm tone, and Hara almost gasped upon hearing his name -, we just want to talk with Hanamiya-san, that’s all.

“I don’t think he would like to talk to you.”

-I don’t think he would like to talk to you - Hara unconsciously growled at the woman, who, shocked, withdrew herself from the crowd. On the other side, Hara was being totally honest about this, and, as harsh as his thoughts may be, he wasn’t going to keep them to himself. - Bein’ honest, he’s more than done with garbage like you.

Yes, Hara wasn’t exactly aware of his thoughts at the moment. He spoke his mind in such a manner that made even Hanamiya himself want to apologize for his speech, but, at the same time, Hanamiya wanted to thank Hara for what he was doing. For some reason, he felt like he wouldn’t be able to handle those people himself. The taller man sighed, trying to calm down, and tried to think about some kind of scheme which could help him make those journalists leave.

Hanamiya peeked at the hallway for a moment, but immediately stepped back to the living room as soon as one of the cameras’ flash dazzled in his eyes. Just like Hara, he’d began to feel anxious, even thought he wasn’t confronting the situation himself. He wanted to do something, so he unlocked his phone once again, and the small LINE icon next to the time caught his eyes. Quietly, he sat near the kotatsu again, trying to ignore all the noise and shouting that came from the outside, and opened LINE once again.

Apparently, his mother had sent him a message and he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t heard the small notification sound, and the phone’s clock now marked half past 10. She’d previously asked Hara to arrive at their house, adding that she almost knew that all those journalists would knock at their door, and that Hara would take care of them if such a thing happened. On the last place, she mentioned that, perhaps, the meeting would go on until 11 o'clock, or even later.

This made Hanamiya notice, although not immediately, that some people actually cared about him, and not just because of them being relatives or friends. Hanamiya recalled, in a heartbeat, how long it took him to accept that there were people that loved him. He recalled how he struggled when accepting something as simple as a gift, specially during his birthday, and his reactions before sudden displays of affection. Hell, he even found it difficult to accept a hug.

He recalled the day in which he finally accepted that he’d made friends during high school. Hanamiya merely saw Yamazaki, Seto, and the rest of the boys as just teammates, while they already saw him as a friend after their first week playing on Kirisaki Daiichi’s basketball team.

All those thoughts vanished all of the sudden when the yelling that came from the outside intensified. For some reason, Hanamiya began to worry about Hara, so he stood up once again and peeked from the door.

-Go fuck yourselves! - Hara was in the verge of using physical violence at this point. Small sweat drops came from his forehead and his hands were trembling, his heart firmly pounded against his chest and he didn’t know if he would be able to handle it for too long. - Don’t you know shit about privacy!? Just let him live, goddammit!

He felt like puking, and wouldn’t hesitate to do so if it helped him get rid of those journalists. Aside from that, he suddenly had the urge to cry, in front of all those journalists -and in front of Hanamiya, whom Hara thought that wouldn’t do anything to calm him down-, and to just slam the door shut in front of them. Hara didn’t want to keep discussing, as those people didn’t understood at all what he meant. All they wanted was to make Hanamiya uncomfortable by digging into his personal life, almost unaware of his condition.

No. Hara wouldn’t allow any of those things to happen. Not just because of Hanamiya, but because of himself. He wanted to be useful, at least for once. He didn’t want to blame himself anymore. So he swallowed and turned for a short moment, and tilted his head as soon as he saw Hanamiya peeking from the living room. It was his way of telling him that he would soon get rid of those people, and Hanamiya’s expression softened as he went back to the room once again.

-Sir - the small woman from before was back, and Hara shrugged at her, holding back his nausea -, as I’ve said before, we just want to talk with Hanamiya-san. Wouldn’t it be easier if you let us?

-And wouldn’t it be easier if you just left!? - Hara screamed back at her, and the smallest of tears ran down his cheek. He didn’t notice. Nor that he cared at this point, when all he wanted was a group of people to leave them alone, no matter the consequences. - You’re really pissing me off!

“Also, sir? I’m not even 30! 'Sir’ is something you call Taro-chan, not me. Jesus…”

For a dull moment, Hara felt like that whole situation was surreal. He felt disoriented, and all of the reporters’ questions, all the pictures they were taking -and, specially, that one cameraman that was recording him and that interview- had made him sick to the point he couldn’t bear it anymore. It came to a point in which he wouldn’t even be aware of his actions, and, while even Hara himself felt like he was exaggerating a little, he wouldn’t apologize if something happened.

-Excuse me - one of the cameramen -concretely, the one that was recording everything- shouted from the back, raising his camera -, but shouldn’t you soften your language? You know this is being broadcasted on the Internet, right?

Hara almost froze on the spot upon hearing those words. It wasn’t like a concert, in which he and his band had total control of the situation. Where he could ask the crowd to either calm down or follow along as they played. It wasn’t like all those conventions Hanamiya attended. He, too, could almost control all the visitors during those conventions. And both of them were alright with people taking pictures of them, or people recording small videos, because they saw it coming. They knew it would happen, and they were alright, although Hanamiya wasn’t that alright when it came down to videos.

But none of them were expecting all those journalists to surround Hanamiya’s house. Really, Hara had initially thought that, after Hanamiya’s accident, journalists would leave him alone until the situation had calmed down. It made him realize how naïve he’d been all along; his blood was boiling and now his entire body was trembling, and his stomach was growling at him. Hara wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up puking, and just thinking about the amount of people that were watching that broadcast at the moment -which were close to the incredible amount of five thousand- was enough to send shivers down his spine.

It wasn’t happening at all. Those people weren’t there. Nobody had knocked on their door. Nothing was being broadcasted. 

That’s what Hara thought to himself, as even more tears formed in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t handle anything at all. He felt weak, because he felt like he wasn’t doing enough. Luckily Hanamiya was still at the living room. Such a small thought managed to relieve himself, but it wasn’t enough to get rid of his ongoing migraine. It wouldn’t get rid of his anxiety or that sickening feeling that came from his stomach and his throat.

Everything was happening with such strenght, at once, and it was happening so quickly that it was impossible for Hara to not feel overwhelmed. Suddenly, his mind turned blank. He didn’t know if it was because of the journalists, or because of himself. It was hard for him to breathe. For him, it felt like as if all of those reporters -every single one of them- were going to make fun of him. He felt like those people were talking about him -not just the journalists, but anyone that was watching that broadcast-, and he couldn’t form any words.

Hara felt trapped. He felt like he couldn’t escape. He felt like his entire body had been tied. Desperately, he tried to search for any possible escape, but he couldn’t.

The woman stared at him with widened eyes, frightened, and moved aside her microphone as one of the journalists asked the cameraman to stop recording. But Hara didn’t notice this. His vision -at least, the small portion he could see- was blurry, he almost had no idea about what was going on, and he felt like as if he would faint at any given moment.

It all had just happened in the span of 10 minutes. 10 minutes that had felt like 30 seconds for Hara. 10 minutes in which Hanamiya had stayed all along at the living room, slightly disturbed by all the yelling that came from the outside.

After a dull moment, the people had left, and Hara slammed the door shut. His entire body was shaking, and he could barely stand on place, so he fell on his knees. He was sobbing rather loudly, searching for his breath, trying to rearrange his thoughts, but it seemed far from impossible for him to do so. That sick feeling was still there, and he retched, as he felt the warm, slow course of his tears against his cheeks.

It was too much for him.

···

-So, what did exactly happen?

Earlier, the woman had arrived from the meeting. She’d brought good news with her, claiming that all those reporters would leave Hanamiya alone until his situation had improved a little. It’d been hard, of course, and, unlike Hara thought, she didn’t need any help to accomplish it. She’d thought about asking Furuhashi for help, but eventually dismissed it as Furuhashi was probably busy with University.

Hara remained quiet. He was feeling better now, but his head still hurt like hell, and he’d eventually regained his breath. However, he still felt as tense as before; he had lowered his head, and wasn’t willing to make any eye contact. Both Hanamiya and his mother were concerned about him; specially Hanamiya, since he knows that he could’ve done something. Hanamiya wasn’t any familiar with that feeling.

“This is my fault”, Hara thought to himself, shrugging. “Really, just how fucking dumb I am?”

Hanamiya glanced at him for a slight moment, keeping a serious, yet slightly bothered expression, and the cold look in his eyes didn’t say too much. Then, he turned back to his mother, and glanced at the small sweets basket in front of them. It was fairly easy to notice that he’d been stressed too.

-Some journalists knocked at the door, and - he reached for one of the cookies in the basket, trying to find a way in which he could explain all those events -, Hara told me to stay here. There was a lot of noise coming from the outside, and, I can’t exactly tell what happened, but Hara became so overwhelmed that-

-Those people were pissing me off and… - Hara sighed, joining his cold fingertips together, and the woman sensed some discomfort on his voice - It was too much. I ended up puking, and that mid- Hanamiya ended up sort of soothing me. Seriously, I’m pretty damn glad it’s over.

The woman tilted her head at Hara and blinked. The room was warm, but not warm enough to turn on the air-conditioner. It was the kind of warmth that made one feel at ease, but it didn’t seem to work with Hara. Slowly, he’d stopped shaking, and he cleared his throat, adjusting his legs to the pillow. The man picked up his phone and checked the hour, placing it on the kotatsu afterwards, and showed a shy smile which he thought that would make both Hanamiya and his mother stop worrying about him.

But it didn’t. In fact, Hanamiya noticed a small glimpse of stress in his face, but chose to not tell him.

-You can stay here for as long as you want, Kazuya-kun - the woman smiled, and her words gave Hara a weak sense of security.

It reminded Hara of all the times he dropped off at Hanamiya’s house, and the incredibly kind treatment he’d received at his home had surprised him more than once. Even Hanamiya himself tried to be a decent human being towards him, and, surprisingly, it worked every single time.

Each one of those visits, including this one, made Hara notice that perhaps he hadn’t appreciated his parents enough. He was more like the rebellious kind of person; during his youth, he barely listened to his parents or his bigger brother, and still managed to make it through high school. Sometimes, he even felt like he didn’t belong to his own family. Hara didn’t exactly have a role model back then -all those musicians he’d seen on TV didn’t count-, and it was hard for him to trust his parents or siblings.

So, each time he saw Hanamiya interacting with his mother; each time Hanamiya mentioned small anecdotes regarding his personal life, which was fairly strange, Hara couldn’t help but feel jealous. Sure, their relationship was heartwarming, and Hanamiya was actually a decent son, but it was the kind of relationship Hara always wanted to have with his parents. He just couldn’t.

-Then - Hara smirked; his odd habit of bottling up his feelings was back, and he hoped that, this time, Hanamiya wouldn’t notice -, would you let me stay over for a lil’ more? I’m getting hungry.

···

After one of the greatest meals so far -at least for Hara, who had been living on junk food and cheap noodles ever since he began living with his older brother-, both Hanamiya and his mother allowed Hara to take a small nap at the living room. He was no longer feeling overwhelmed, and his headache had slowly vanished.

While his mother had gone outside for a walk -she’d asked Hanamiya if he wanted to go with her, but he’d rejected her petition, on a rather polite way-, Hanamiya was trying to get himself back to writing. He’d eventually grown bored of the phone, and had placed it on his desk, along some books -some of which belonged to him- and a small stack of sheets. He liked the way the sky lightened up his room, and the small breeze that caressed the windows’ curtains.

Hanamiya sat on the border of his bed, slowly rocking his legs back and forth, with his laptop resting on his lap. So far, he’d only been able to write a single sentence. He couldn’t exactly come up with any ideas at the moment, even though he was well-aware of the topics his previous novels had treated and their plots. He knew that “Reminiscence” had to follow a very strict plot, so it could keep the essence of those previous novels.

 _Honestly_.

Even during high school, when he only had free times during weekends (specially Sundays), he was far more productive than he was being now. Now he had even more free time than he thought -excluding conventions-, and, for some reason, it became harder for him to write. To finish his second novel, “Risk”, he needed almost two months for some of the chapters, and three years to finish the entire novel.

Hanamiya cackled to himself, mildly annoyed, and took a deep breath. He knew about the main characters’ situation -which, surprisingly, was almost like his current situation-, and, even though he’d already written a small preview of what the first chapter could be, he’d ignored it. At the last minute, Hanamiya had changed his ideas concerning that chapter, but found himself almost unable to express those new ideas.

He then decided to close his eyes for a dull moment and make up a small scenario in his mind. Hanamiya didn’t feel as tense as he did before, so he wondered why he couldn’t focus on his writing. Even though he was trying his best to focus, he wasn’t able to. It’d been easy for him to write during his stance at the hospital, so, why couldn’t he write just now, in the middle of such a quiet evening? Hanamiya found it almost surreal.

He clicked his tongue, closing his laptop as he stood up. The crow-haired man felt the need to distract himself in order to focus once again, so he placed the laptop on the table, picking up his phone afterwards. Perhaps that small phone could entertain him for long enough until his inspiration came back. Hanamiya hadn’t explored the phone’s full features at all -by now, he only knew how to keep track of his duties and send messages via LINE-, and he hadn’t checked all of the messages he’d got sent.

The first row of messages he chose to check were the ones that 'Kojiro’ had sent him. His reason was fairly simple; Hanamiya wondered why he’d saved him as 'Kojiro’, and now, instead of 13, there were 14 unseen messages. Hanamiya wondered if Hara had told Furuhashi -it didn’t took him too long to find out- about what took place before, or if it was him just asking random questions.

It happened to be that last option, and Hanamiya felt slightly relieved. Looking through Furuhashi’s previous messages, he found out that said man had been reading his novels, and had quite enjoyed them. Furuhashi had also sent some interesting pictures; including one of him almost bragging about his grades, which were rather brilliant, and a cake he’d made during his free time. While it made Hanamiya grin, it also made him wonder which kind of person Furuhashi exactly was. Everything he knew so far from him was that he was more than caring, and that he carried quite an amount of high school stories which he was willing to share at any moment.

Stories which Hanamiya wanted to hear. But Furuhashi hadn’t visited their home at any moment during that week. None of them, even Furuhashi himself, knew when they were going to meet again. Their goals were different: while Hanamiya was just curious about himself, Furuhashi’s main goal was to make him remember. That’s why he was so detailed each time Hanamiya had asked him about high school anecdotes.

Hanamiya checked the most recent message from him. Furuhashi asked him about his new novel, and if he’d began writing yet. A tiny smirk formed in Hanamiya’s lips as he frowned, and he began typing.

“I’m actually stuck with the first chapter. No matter what, I can’t focus. It’s starting to piss me off.”

Some seconds later, Hanamiya sat again on the border of the bed. Unlike  before, he wasn’t rocking his legs back and forth, and the small breeze that caressed the courtains was gone. As time went by, the sky slowly turned orange, and Hanamiya had to confess that he liked that tone over the sky’s previous blue tone. There wasn’t any single cloud in the sky, and the Sun shone stronger than ever.

Eventually, Furuhashi replied, and Hanamiya was fairly surprised by his words.

“Hanamiya, to me it sounds like you’re forcing yourself to write. That’s not good. Really.”

“Also, you don’t have to write right now. Perhaps you don’t even feel like writing at the moment. I understand that you want to go back to your old writing habit, but, wouldn’t it be easier if you wrote once you felt inspired to do so?”

Hanamiya had to confess that Furuhashi was right. In order to regain his writing habits, and to start writing once again, Hanamiya had thought about writing -almost- daily, without keeping in mind whether he felt any inspiration at the moment. At the same moment, he got reminded of his third novel, which he’d left untouched since the accident took place.

So, after reading that message, he noticed that he’d made a mistake. Not that he cared, since everyone made mistakes at some point of their lives, even though some of them just denied all of their mistakes. Of course, Hanamiya had made some mistakes previously, but was unable to recall them. Some of those mistakes were intentional, but they were mistakes after all.

“Thanks for the advice, I guess. Didn’t notice I’ve been overworking myself.”

That was the last message he’d sent to Furuhashi before he turned off his phone and lied back in bed. Hanamiya was tired, mostly because of the events that had taken place before. He placed his phone on the nighstand, right next to the lamp, and fixed his sleepy gaze on the ceiling. Hanamiya took deep, long breaths, and his position was more than comfortable. It was undeniable that Hanamiya wanted to rest.

He enjoyed the dull silence of his room, and how the sky turned warmer as minutes passed by. Not to mention that the room’s temperature was more than perfect -it was neither warm, nor cold, and the curtains, once again, were being shaken by small breezes-, and Hanamiya couldn’t wish for more. His crow-like hair was spread all over the pillow like pure-black silk, and he felt both his hands and belly, which were resting together over it, raising and falling as he breathed.

It was _perfect_. So perfect, that some minutes later, Hanamiya closed his eyes, and slowly fell asleep. He hadn’t took a nap for a while -he could barely sleep back at the hospital, even if he tried-, and he merely didn’t notice himself falling deeper and deeper in the realm of dreams.

···

Once Hara woke up from his nap, he showed up at Hanamiya’s room, only to find the smaller man asleep. He thought that Hanamiya looked cute while asleep, and found it quite funny. But Hara didn’t want to wake him up, so he just chuckled quietly.

Before he left that place, Hara walked up to him, lowering himself so he could see Hanamiya properly. It seemed like Hanamiya was deeply asleep, as Hara decided to nip his cheek to check whether he was asleep or just pretending to. To Hara, the idea of someone pretending to sleep sounded like a bad joke, so he dismissed it. Hanamiya almost looked like a child to him, and, as much as he wanted to joke around with him, Hara chose to let him rest.

Eventually, Hara placed the smallest of kisses on one of Hanamiya’s cheeks, and liked its soft texture, along its pale tone. It was his way of thanking him, since he wouldn’t find the right words to thank him verbally. After he withdrew his head, he found himself blushing; he knew that nobody was looking at them, and that Hanamiya wouldn’t notice, but couldn’t help feeling embarrassed.

As he left that home, he thought about a possible meeting between him, Hanamiya, and the other boys. Which wasn’t impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hydrangea - Pride.
> 
> (The hydrangea that's shown at Hanamiya's room was actually a gift from Furuhashi for Hanamiya's 19th birthday, because capricorns are said to be prideful people, and Hanamiya himself is just...)
> 
> I hope I've handled that panic attack properly ;;. As usual, tell me about any grammar mistakes you find.
> 
> Kudos and comments are really appreciated!


	10. 原 (Hara)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hara goes on a walk with Hanamiya, and eventually, he tries to come in terms with adulthood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing post-canon, but the fact that pretty much everyone is an adult right now is something that I find fascinating and challenging at the same time. Because of that, I don't want this fic to focus simply on Hanamiya's condition and how he eventually recalls his past. There's going to be a tiny bit of character development as well (which means 1) more chapters and 2) me wondering if I'm really going to finish this story before June.)
> 
> (If I could come up with scenarios for Seto just like I do with Hara, he'd get to appear a LOT. But Seto is just... Too much for me, tbh.)
> 
> I realize this chapter is incredibly long. I had thought about re-writing it after I was done writing, but guess I'm too lazy to re-write roughly 10K words. Apologies for any possible grammar mistakes.

Thanks to Hara's poor instructions, Hanamiya not only had recalled how to use his phone, but he'd also learned how to use his laptop, and so, the Internet. It had reminded him of an old blog which he'd created back then during high school, in which he usually uploaded poetry and short drabbles. Hanamiya was unable to recall for how long he hadn't used said blog. But, apparently, he uploaded the last entry -a short poem- almost 4 years ago.

In said entry, he'd also mentioned that, since he wanted to focus on his writings, he would leave the blog for a while. Said "while" lasted for nearly 4 years, and Hanamiya couldn't help but cackle at himself as he kept reading. He recalled some of those writings, and, at the same time, his former email adress and its password. And, suddenly, the idea of uploading his third novel's first chapter, which he'd recenly finished, popped in his mind. Hanamiya couldn't ignore it, since rather than an idea, it was an urge.

However, Hanamiya didn't exactly feel sure about uploading that chapter. One side of him wanted to wait until he finished the entire novel. He didn't know when he would finish it, specially considering his current condition, and he'd already spent more than a week working on said chapter. But Hanamiya didn't exactly agree with the chapter's outcome, so he would probably change something before actually publishing the chapter. Which was something he'd considered too.

He leaned closer to his laptop, adjusting his tired body to the chair's back. That day, Hanamiya had woken up near 10 in the morning, and he'd never felt that refreshed before. Hanamiya can't exactly recall the last time he'd slept that much before, since he was used to waking up fairly early, sometimes even at 6 in the morning. Hanamiya probably hadn't felt so vivid before, and even better: he found himself heavily inspired to write. So, if he found himself with some free time that day, he already knew how he should spend it.

Hanamiya placed his hand on his chin as he checked his blog's stadistics. His follower count reached almost 20.000 followers; he'd also made more than 80 posts, and received a total of 247 comments. With a dazzling sunlight reflecting on his eyes, he squinted them as he slowly scrolled down, rocking his legs back and forth as he moved his head away from the screen. Eventually, he came across an announcement he'd made exactly 4 years ago, in which he talked about how one of his novels (Wonder) would get published. Said announcement was fairly well-received, with over 50 comments, and Hanamiya couldn't help but to crack a smile at it.

It reminded him of his mother's smile once he told her the news. Hanamiya recalled the way her eyes lightened up upon hearing the news, and a small tear that formed in the corner of one of her eyes, as well as the way her fingers trembled before dragging her son into a long, tight hug which Hanamiya would probably not forget. Except that he'd forgot, until that moment. He wasn't able to fully recognize her, though, and so, he didn't truly recall his mother. But for him it felt like as if that hug had just happened a few moments ago. A well-known warmth ran through his body as Hanamiya's smirk turned into a softer smile, child-like, and suddenly, everything felt alright.

Not that Hanamiya was used to such a feeling.

The crow-haired man leaned back on his chair, sighing as he withdrew his hands from the keyboard, and cracked his knuckles. Hanamiya took another look at his room, this time trying to focus on small details. A stack of sheets was placed right besides his laptop, with two pencils and a pen on top of it. That small vase with blue hydrangeas was placed behind his laptop, along his mobile phone, and that frame with him and his former teammates could be seen behind the laptop. At least, one of the frame's peaks. There was also a novel placed near one of the desk's corners, and, on top of said book, an olive-green hair tie. Hanamiya wouldn't have noticed said hair tie if he hadn't peeked at the desk's corner. Everything was so tidy that, somehow, it gave Hanamiya a sense of security.

Before he went back to his laptop, Hanamiya saw something at his left that he hadn't noticed before, not even the _first_ time he stayed over. It was a shelf hung on the wall, mostly filled with diverse novels he'd collected throughout many years, a small cactus near its right corner, and a frame featuring him and his mother placed on the left corner. In said frame, Hanamiya looked fairly young, almost like a child -perhaps around 10 years old-, and his mother's hand rested on his shoulder. Both of them were smiling, but there was something about Hanamiya's eyes -a dim glimpse of fear- that, somehow, made him look worried.

The room itself was minimalistic-like, except for a small poster placed near the wardrobe, which featured Banana Yoshimoto, one of his favorite authors of all time. The room's walls were pure-white, with some minor scratches and brushes, and Hanamiya kind of liked its design. He liked how everything was so nicely placed; it didn't take him too long to notice that the way the books were placed resembled something like a rainbow. There was also a small photo album placed between those books, but Hanamiya hadn't noticed, as he was busy watching as the sunlight reflected in the hydrangeas' vase, and how it brightened the room. Of course, it wasn't as beautiful as the outside (Hanamiya had barely stepped outside home twice, but he still thought about the outside as something beautiful), but it still was aesthetically pleasing for him.

After a dull moment, Hanamiya averted his gaze away from the sunlight, and it no longer reflected in his eyes. He found it rather annoying as it had burned his eyes, and he squeezed them, hoping it would go away, and afterwards, he sat back in front of the laptop. It wasn't exactly a good idea, either, as the blog's background, a clean, strong black tone, had caught him by surprise. If anything, he leaned back on the chair, trying to adjust his back once again to it, and cracked his neck, feeling a wave of relief through his body as he adapted himself.

It all was so quiet that, perhaps, Hanamiya could spend the rest of his life like that. Except that he wouldn't. All he wanted to do now was to have a quite day and just write. And, probably, read one of the books placed on the shelf. He became curious about them as soon as he found the shelf, and, as soon as he uploaded the chapter to his blog, he would take a look at them, unaware that a photo album was hiding between all those books. Hanamiya picked up his hair tie and, quickly, tied his hair in a messy ponytail he didn't bother to check afterwards. Actually, he didn't really like walking around with his hair down, even though he never payed attention to his hair in particular.

He slowly placed his fingers on the keyboard, and the clickish sound they made when they collided against the keys slightly bothered him. Hanamiya hadn't noticed this before, not even while he was writing yesterday, so it seemed to be something new to him. Fixing his gaze on the screen, Hanamiya thought about making a post "apologizing" for his hiatus; but got reminded of his follower number. It wouldn't stop him from making that post, though.

Seconds after, he got immersed in the world of writing. In his case, fixing mistakes and replying to some comments people had left on his hiatus announcement. Something he noticed was that his writing style had changed a lot over the course of the years. And it wasn't just those 4 years since he officially began writing; eventually, Hanamiya got distracted by some of his oldest works, which had been uploaded almost 7 years ago, during his very first high school year. His old works tended to be really descriptive and detailed, while his newer works mostly focused on each one of the characters, since Hanamiya believed that "characters are the ones that build the plot".

Hanamiya became so immersed on his writing that, because of a sudden rush of inspiration, he began to write the second chapter to his third novel, and almost finished it right there. Later, he got used to the clickish sound of the keys, and couldn't take his eyes off the screen. He hadn't felt like that in years. For Hanamiya, it felt like as if he enjoyed writing again. He didn't feel forced to write, though. Words flowed freely as Hanamiya's writing pace quickly decreased, trying to find the best way to describe the many scenarios that had been created in his mind. Hanamiya didn't really care about grammar mistakes, since his grammar was far more than perfect, and any mistake he made, he would correct it afterwards.

When lunch time arrived and his mother knocked at the door, Hanamiya didn't notice. All he could hear was the sound of his fingers pressing against each one of the keys, writing fluent dialogues and flawless landscapes, and building yet another history. He didn't notice either when, for a dull moment, his mother entered his room and giggled upon looking at her son.

Maybe writing was actually more than a hobby to him.

···

The next day, all that inspiration had vanished. Hanamiya didn't feel like writing that day, which was strange. He could perfectly recall the sudden writing rush he had the day before, and he was slightly proud of himself. But, even though the second chapter was almost finished (its length almost reached 8.000 words), Hanamiya just didn't feel like finishing it. He had to admit that, so far, the chapter was fairly good, and he could barely find any mistakes. Perhaps he'd used the wrong kanji at some point, but he just didn't feel like looking for mistakes at the moment.

So, Hanamiya chose to spend that entire morning helping his mother at home and, perhaps, reading one of the novels placed on the shelf. He also wanted to go on a walk, but, after recalling that previous incident, he decided to spend the entire day at home, surrounded by nothing but that place's warmth and quietly reading on his room.

...That's what he wanted, until someone rang the bell.

···

Neither Hanamiya nor his mother were expecting Hara to drop by that day. It was saturday, and the woman thought that he would have to attend band practice, or some kind of interview, while Hanamiya simply thought that Hara was busy or perhaps sleeping. Earlier, he got reminded of a certain purple-haired boy almost falling asleep in class, much like Seto. Except that Seto fell asleep due his condition, while Hara was just lazy and didn't pay any attention at all at class.

First, Hara apologized because of that previous accident, claiming that it was his fault and that he shouldn't have interacted with those journalists. While Hanamiya's mother told him that he had nothing to worry about, Hanamiya internally thought that yes, Hara had made a mistake, but refused to tell him. There was actually a glimpse of a good person inside him, but Hanamiya just kept ignoring it.

Afterwards, Hara spoke with Hanamiya's mother, and Hanamiya overheard their conversation from his room. Apparently, Hara wanted to take him on a walk, much like that one tour that took place after Hanamiya got discharged from the hospital. He explained that it would be pretty much the same: they would visit places Hanamiya might know, and Hara would share stupid anecdotes with him, hoping that he recalled something along the way. Hara also needed to buy drumsticks, though, and he also thought that Hanamiya perhaps wanted to buy something for himself.

Surprisingly, Hanamiya thought it was a good idea.

···

To make sure that Hanamiya wouldn't get lost, Hara decided to hold his hand for the entire walk. Which Hanamiya found rather annoying, of course. But he wouldn't refuse: he didn't want to repeat that one mistake. Hara's hand was almost as pale as his; his touch was cold, and his grip was strong, yet gentle. The black-haired man slowly swung their hands as they walked, humming songs unknown to Hanamiya, and said man kept a stoic expression as he looked around himself, carrying a small notebook and a pen under his arm..

They found themselves surrounded by small houses, many of them with red and blue roofs, all of which belonged to Hanamiya's neighborhood. He stared at them with widened eyes, followed by a comforting sense of confidence, as Hara guided him through the street. It all seemed so familiar to him that, in a matter of seconds, he recalled some of his neighbour's names. The scenery itself, although not astonishing, was nice to look at. Small clouds were painted all over the sky, along a bright Sun that sometimes chose to hide behind them, and small, warm breezes that softly grazed each one of the tree's leaves, creating a perfect rhythm. Some cicadas rested between a tree's roots, shrilling, and their chant caught Hara's attention. All the houses almost looked the same, and Hara couldn't tell the difference between them. He'd barely visited Hanamiya's neighborhood before, except when he wanted Hanamiya to help him with exams and projects.

The street itself was empty, and both men could hear their steps as they walked under a clear blue sky, along the cicadas' shrills and a dog's barking. It all seemed so peaceful that Hara couldn't help but to yawn. Was Hanamiya's neighborhood always like that? For him, it was boring as heck. Meanwhile, for Hanamiya, it was everything he could've wished for. He'd been longing for a moment like that for a while now, and, even though home was peaceful too, he still had to get used to the street. Hara's touch became warm after a while, just like the temperature. Except that the temperature, rather than warm, was ideal. It wasn't August's suffocating heat; instead, it was a lukewarm temperature which Hanamiya seemed to enjoy. Perhaps something between 20 and 25 Celsius, yet a soft, spring-like breeze, made it seem like colder than it actually was.

Eventually, Hara stopped humming, and nearly released Hanamiya's hand to kneel down and caress a kitten near them. As Hara talked nonsense to the kitten, claiming that he wanted to take her home, Hanamiya's eyes averted to his clothing. Wearing baggy, gray sweatpants, and a fairly big black tank, he couldn't help but look at the black-haired man's sneakers. They were much bigger than Hara's feet, with electric blue laces and many bright orange highlights against a neon-yellow background. Hanamiya thought of Hara's sneakers as something disgusting; he only knew one person that would ever wear sneakers like those. Hara's aesthetic didn't exactly disgust him, though, but he felt like complaining about Hara's sneakers.

After the kitten ran away from Hara's hands, said man pouted. For Hanamiya, he was acting on a childish way. And it wouldn't be a lie to admit that no, Hara had barely grown since high school. He'd become slightly more intelligent than he already was, though, but his maturity just wasn't there. Yamazaki, who still was fairly close to Hara in terms of friendship, could spend hours complaining about his friend's pranks: one of Hara's traits which hadn't changed at all. Hanamiya wasn't afraid to admit that Hara behaved on an immature way, often unaware of his mistakes, almost on a selfish way.

There was something about Hara that strongly resonated to Hanamiya, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He'd met someone exactly like him before. For a moment, Hanamiya thought to himself that _maybe_ Hara was that someone, but cackled afterwards.

As they made their way through that empty street, Hara sometimes turned his head towards Hanamiya in order to take a closer look at him. Of course, Hanamiya noticed even the smallest peek, and Hara would just reply with a faint "nothing". For him, it felt awkward. Deep inside, Hara thought that Hanamiya was handsome. It wasn't love -sadly, many people mistook aesthetic attraction with romantic attraction-; Hara just thought that his former teammate was attractive: he wanted to compliment his olive-green eyes, deep as a forest, with gray highlights, but he also liked his hair, which shared the same colour as a crow's feathers and was tied in a perfectly-made ponytail.

Great, Hara had distracted himself again. And this time, he was unable to come up with an apology that didn't sound ridiculous.

Back then, during high school, Hara always joked about Hanamiya and Furuhashi's relationship, often claiming that they were "boyfriends" and repeatedly asking Hanamiya if they were ever going to go on a date, thus risking his own life. Accidentally, Hara mentioned this during their walk, and both men stopped for a moment. It seemed like Hanamiya had recalled something concerning high school. Which was actually the case.

-Oi - the smaller man raised his voice as they began walking again, and Hara turned to him with a well-known shy smile -, where are we exactly heading?

-I don't know, Hana-chan - Hara smirked at him, swinging their hands again as they walked, and the name of Hara Kazuya now resonated even stronger to him -, you tell me. T-There's a bookstore around here, though.

It reminded Hanamiya that there was an specific book which he wanted to buy.

···

Bookstores had always bored Hara to no end. Sure, he could buy a comic or a manga if he wanted, but all those books contained far more information that he could process. Just looking around said place was too much for him to handle. On the other side, Hanamiya just wandered around said place, looking for the science-fiction section. "Just ask, goddammit", Hara thought to himself.

Said bookstore was nearby Setagaya, and even Hara himself hadn't noticed how much they had walked. Hanamiya's home was in Meguro, as well as Hara's floor and Kirisaki Daiichi's high school. Hara had lost track of how many hour they'd been walking, but speculated that it was something between one and two hours. He felt like he was exaggerating, but, not only Hanamiya said nothing during their journey; Hara hadn't been paying any attention to their surroundings, but, whether he saw something interesting, or any building or park he'd known from high school, he would tell Hanamiya short stories about said places. At least, what he could remember.

The bookstore itself was far more tidy than Hara's room. It was the kind of store where one could easily get lost between a myriad of shelves; the kind of place in which Hanamiya could spend countless hours looking for a single book. It was also one of the many bookstores in Setagaya, and much different from Meguro's, since Meguro's bookstores tended to be much smaller, except for its Central Library. Setagaya itself was bigger than Meguro, and Hara still wondered how they ended up in such a place.

Hara didn't enjoy reading as much as Hanamiya did, so, when he looked around the library, all he could see were the same tall shelves and the same worn-out books. None of them caught his attention. Not even the comics. He wouldn't be lying if he admitted that yes, bookstores were boring to him. To the point that he'd rather stay outside, waiting for Hanamiya to find his so-desired book. And Hara couldn't help but wonder which kind of book it would be this time. Maybe one of those short, confusing novels which only he seemed to understand. Or perhaps it would be one of those dark novels which Hanamiya could read without any problem. At this point, Hara didn't know what to expect. He hadn't gone shopping with Hanamiya for a while, but the man was still as unpredictable as he was during high school.

Eventually, they arrived at the science-fiction section. Of all the things Hara saw coming, that wasn't one of them. He'd expected Hanamiya to spend, at least, two hours at the mystery section, probably looking for a crime novel or a thriller. But he hadn't expected Hanamiya to end up in such a section. Hara had always thought that Hanamiya saw science-fiction as a big joke, even claiming that it was dumb, so he'd never thought that said man would ever enjoy such a genre.

The first thing that came to Hara's mind was Hanamiya looking for a specific novel, perhaps one featuring a dystopian society, or something alike. Maybe something darker, that diverted from the science-fiction genre itself. Since Hara wasn't actually interested in literature, he couldn't come up with a possible novel Hanamiya could be looking for. At first, he'd thought about "Paprika", because it belonged to the science-fiction genre, being also the kind of novel Hanamiya (or Seto) would read. Hara barely knew it because of its adaptation, which he actually hadn't watched.

At this point, Hara was filled with both curiosity and impatience. Hanamiya wasn't saying anything; he was distracted, searching amongst infinite shelves and stacks of books, almost in his own world. So he patted Hanamiya's shoulder with his fingers, almost startling him, and the latter quickly turned to him, slightly surprised and pouting at the same time, perhaps annoyed. He wasn't holding any book.

-What're you looking for, man? - Hara's speech was as polite and respectful as it could be, and Hanamiya stood up in front of him, mildly annoyed. - We've been outside for like 2 hours. And... Well, I need to buy some sticks, y'know.

For a moment, Hanamiya thought about Hara as someone selfish.

-I know exactly what I'm looking for. It's called "1Q84", by Haruki Murakami - he replied, tightening his ponytail. - You probably haven't read it.

Hara didn't notice at first, but, for a split second, he thought that Hanamiya had recalled him. Internally, he laughed at such a thought, and told himself that such a thing wouldn't be that easy to achieve. But, once again, Hara was behaving as the same careless misfit as always: for Hanamiya and the rest of the group, he didn't seem any mature, with the exception that he was no longer as noisy as he was before. Aside from that, he still was his 17-year old self.

He then recalled a certain conversation he shared with Seto almost a week before, in which said man mentioned that, rather than just trying to trigger his memories, it was better to follow a slow pace, while he also told Hara that he should just behave like his usual self. Not that Hara knew how to act like his usual self, since he mostly acted out of impulses or without previously thinking, unaware of the many consequences it could bring. He didn't expect that to change.

However, there was something which Hara knew that Hanamiya didn't, though. Which was surprising, to say the least.

-Well - the man looked away for a moment, trying to avoid any possible eye contact, and he caught Hanamiya's attention, with the latter's eyes almost fixed on Hara's face, and said man still avoiding eye contact -, you actually own that novel, Hana-chan.

Hanamiya couldn't help but give him an indifferent, yet curious expression. Because, while he had noticed that shelf on his room, he hadn't paid too much attention to its books, nor he'd noticed the small photo album placed inbetween. Aside from that, there were many things he hadn't noticed at home, mostly because he hadn't focused too much in small details. Therefore, he hadn't seen that crystal vase with edelweiss at the entrance, or a drawing he did of his family when he was 6 years old. Nor he'd found a short poem he wrote during middle school, which was also in his room.

At the same time, it would've been _impossible_ for Hanamiya to notice everything at first sight, no matter how perceptive he was. That was one of Hanamiya's most noticeable traits; how he almost analyzed each place and each person's speech, as well as their body language and their expression as they spoke. It didn't took Hara too long to notice that said habit hadn't exactly vanished; he still was the same analytical individual, except that, this time, he was disoriented.

" _Great_ ", Hara clicked his tongue in annoyance as they stepped outside the bookstore. Now he sometimes even forgot the fact that his old captain was now amnesiac. Each time Hara thought something couldn't get worse, it did.

Later, Hara mentioned all the "strange" books he owned and talked about all the time Hanamiya spent at Kirisaki Daiichi's library. But Hanamiya already knew this, so he switched topics, and began talking about their old basketball team, which Hanamiya had forgotten. Hara talked about Hanamiya's terrifying practice schedules, about his role as the team's coach, and the team itself, as well as its second years and how they eventually became friends. But, no matter how well Hara explained himself; Hanamiya still couldn't recall anything, not even the team itself. He even gave Hara a sceptic look when he mentioned Hanamiya's double position as a captain and a coach.

But not everything was lost; when Hanamiya mentioned that he didn't remember their basketball team, an idea came to Hara's mind. It wasn't exactly the best idea, nor he was expecting Hanamiya to remember how it worked, but it would be worth it.

···

When Hara felt a well-known emptiness in his tummy, he knew it was time to eat. On a second, he checked his phone, and was surprised upon the amount of time they'd spent walking. It was near 2PM now, and they'd just came from a small music store found nearby the bookstore. The sun was dazzling upon them, and, while the temperature itself seemed stable, Hara behaved as if they were walking through Hell itself. None of them knew Setagaya's streets at all, so Hara just asked Hanamiya to look around himself until he found some sort of restaurant or fast-food chain in which they could rest and eat.

After a short walk, they arrived at a small restaurant named like the ward itself. It was a well-known place because of its diverse ramen varieties, as well as its nice atmosphere, mixed with a fulfilling, nutritive smell in the air. The dishes' prices were alright, too. Because of that day being a Saturday, Hara had expected said place to be full of people. But he was wrong; there was barely anybody at the moment, except for some waiters and two people near the counter.

Hara immediately recognized one of them, and greeted him with a smile as he walked up to him, with Hanamiya following him to the counter.

-Furu?

Said man turned to them with that same dead-pan expression and those empty eyes that never managed to confuse anybody, while his companion -one of his roommates- didn't notice them. He barely looked any surprised, but still greeted Hara and Hanamiya back.

Hanamiya himself wasn't exactly on a talkative mood, so he looked away from them, and picked up the menu. At first, Hara thought about his behavior as rude, even willing to drag him into their upcoming conversation. However, when Furuhashi saw that trembling, annoyed smirk on his face, along the way he tapped his fingers against the counter, he couldn't help but stop him from doing anything by lowering his head, while placing his hand on Hara's shoulder. And, surprisingly, it worked.

-Hara -, he spoke, and withdrew his hand from the man's shoulder in order to lift his glasses - he's never been a talkative person.

"Or perhaps he just doesn't know what to say", Furuhashi thought to himself for a moment, slowly being reminded of past days, and those long walks back home he and Hanamiya shared during high school. Thoughts like those always showed up at the most inopportune moments, and Furuhashi couldn't do anything to avoid or stop them.

Deep inside, he still felt guilty. He looked away for a moment, with distant eyes, and because of this, he didn't notice his friend asking him about which dish he would order, or who would pay. And he couldn't hear Hara asking Hanamiya about what he was going to order. There was a certain thought that often showed up and almost blocked him, and, no matter how much Furuhashi reminded himself to leave said thought behind. No matter how much he told himself to focus on the future, because it would just keep chasing him.

"If I had just talked with him a little more, perhaps none of this would be happening."

He didn't notice, but at the moment, almost everyone was staring at him, wondering if there was something wrong with him. Even Hanamiya, who sat right next to him, and that had almost ignored him at first, was now staring at him, with lowered eyebrows and a bored expression all over his face, still holding the menu.

- _Kojiro_?

The man snapped out of reality as soon as his roommate called his name, and turned to him with slightly widened eyes, raising his head upon him. And said man -named Watanabe, fairly smaller than Furuhashi- couldn't help but chuckle at him. It had been going on for more than a month now, but it didn't took him too long to get used to such an habit. Furuhashi's behavior could get repetitive sometimes, and most of the time he didn't notice.

-...Excuse me - he muttered, and picked up his wallet from his pocket, placing it on the table and gazing at Watanabe's ramen bowl. Said man didn't seem to agree too much with this, and showed a glimpse of disagreement upon it.

-I'll pay for this myself, so don't worry. Besides - he spoke as Furuhashi put his wallet back into his pocket, somewhat agitated -, I feel like you might want to talk with your friends for a while.

···

Instead of going back home, Furuhashi chose to stay over at the bar with his former teammates: the cheerful, yet noisy Hara, and the quiet, thoughtful Hanamiya. The latter one had already picked something from the menu -a bowl of shio ramen-, while Hara chose wonton noodles instead. Furuhashi had already eaten a while ago, so he would just stay around until either Hara or Hanamiya were done with their meals or got tired.

It didn't seem like Hanamiya was on a talkative mood that day, though. As soon as Watanabe had left, he began to write on his notebook, perhaps to distract himself until his menu arrived. While Furuhashi didn't say a thing about this, Hara simply shook his head in disappointment, although he'd already expected such a thing to happen. Afterwards, he leaned towards the counter, placing his lower arm on the table, and for Furuhashi it felt like as if Hara was looking at him straight in the eye. Meanwhile he just looked at Hara out of the corner of his eye, as he scrolled down on his phone.

-Anyway - Furuhashi spoke, almost fixing his eyes on the phone's screen, and the sounds that came from the kitchen seemed to block his words -, how did you end up here?

-How'cha think, Furu? - Hara complained. - Today's a beautiful day, and I wanted to take Hana-chan on a walk. And, somehow, we ended up here.

-Hara, I don't think you two just _ended up here_ \- he slightly frowned his eyebrows as he replied, questioning Hara's response. And, by just looking at Hara's pout, he assumed that he'd caught him.

It may seem like Hanamiya was ignoring both of them, but he wasn't. He could hear their voices and their ongoing conversation over each sound that came to the kitchen, and each thing any of the cooks yelled. For a moment he got distracted by the restaurant's rich smell, which brought back memories of a group of teenagers having lunch together at a restaurant almost like that one.

He turned to Hara for a dull moment, and almost cackled at his expression. It seemed like Hanamiya's old habit of laughing at people each time they made a mistake, chuckling at their confused, annoyed faces, wasn't gone. Just like that devilish grin of his, or the way he talked with someone he was used to, usually filled with many sarcastic remarks, nor to mention the way in which he looked at people, with cold, olive-green eyes, as if he looked down of them, it was one of his habits. And, supposedly, he'd forgotten them, but those old habits had come back on a heartbeat many days before.

-Alright, _fine_ \- an annoyed Hara groaned. - Since you mentioned that you'd spend some time around here during holidays, I thought that it would be a good idea if we met. And...

-And?

-I'd like to ask you something.

Furuhashi turned off his phone, and placed it next to his glass of water, lifting up his glasses afterwards. Instead of looking back at Hara -he doubted whether Hara was actually looking at him-, he fixed his lifeless eyes on the small kitchen placed in front of them, watching as the cooks picked up bowls from shelves and worked on the previously requested dishes.

He was now on his sixth year of career, still at Hattori. Previously, he'd studied a Nutrition Course, a Culinary Course and a High-Tech Administration Course, and was now studying which could be his very last course at Hattori (Patisserie Course), before he left and decided to finally become a chef. While Furuhashi had thought about taking careers such as Biological Science, or even something medicine-related, the idea of studying at such a place seemed interesting to him, so he made a decision.

Not to mention that he had to move all the way to Shibuya. Said cities weren't exactly far from each other, so he didn't have any problem each time he wanted to visit his family.

-Go for it.

-Furu - he tapped his fingers on the table, creating some sort of rhythm that reached both Hanamiya and Furuhashi, and the latter one expected his upcoming question to be about Hanamiya -, d'you think I should've studied some sort of career?

- _Yes_ \- Furuhashi and Hanamiya replied at once, with the latter turning to Hara.

Hanamiya's voice surprised both of them more than they'd expected. Specially Hara, who wasn't hoping that Hanamiya would recall him that soon. Perhaps Hanamiya hadn't recalled him yet, and instead, knew about his band and about what he thought about studying. But, at the same time, it would mean that Hanamiya knew about Hara.

Now Hara was confused. So confused, that he couldn't come up with an actual response. Aside from that, he wondered if their dishes would be ready at some point. He just muttered nonsense under his breath, cursing Hanamiya between words, and hoping said man didn't hear him. However, Hanamiya could hear him; he sat between him and Furuhashi, and had heard their previous conversation.

-And, _Hara_ \- Hanamiya kept talking, and could perfectly tell that Hara's sharp, clear-blue gaze was fixed in his eyes -, you're still too immature. If your musical career hadn't been any successful, what would you've done?

-...I don't now, man - Hara muttered, looking away from Hanamiya for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse, a single excuse that could work. - Guess I would've tried to play with another band.

"He's lying", both Hanamiya and Furuhashi thought to themselves.

-You didn't even want to go to University on the first place - Furuhashi interrupted.

Now it seemed like Hara's mind was an open book. Hanamiya had previously opened it, and now he and Furuhashi were diving deeper in his thoughts, almost being able to read it. And Hara was more than embarrassed. He knew about how predictable he could get; but he'd never thought, not even during his high school years in which it seemed like both Hanamiya and Seto could predict his speech, that he would ever be that predictable.

He couldn't do anything about it. At least, that's what he thought. Even after his 20th birthday, he hadn't changed his speech or behavior at all. He claimed that he was too lazy to do it, sometimes adding that "it was too hard", when the truth was that Hara was afraid of growing up. And it didn't have to do just with taxes, moving away from his family, and all of that. Everything Hara had heard about adulthood sounded like "plain bullshit" -that's how he referred to it- to him. But deep inside, he was afraid of growing up.

Something that Hanamiya and Furuhashi had seen coming, and that Seto would too. Maturity wasn't something that Hara liked to talk about, nor it was something Hara was interested in. So he wanted to switch topics as soon as possible.

-I... Guess you guys are right - Hara hesitated, followed by a long, awkward silence, and by him lowering his head, rather disappointed on himself.

The other men didn't seem to react too well towards this. Instead, they just ignored Hara -even though Hanamiya would attempt to encourage him afterwards-, hoping that he would be able to deal with his current situation by himself. Of course, Hara wouldn't grow up on a week; being the kind of person he was, he could even need years to start seeing himself as an adult.

-Don't be like that, Hara - Furuhashi spoke, on an attempt to comfort him. Not that he was any good at it. And Hara turned to him, raising his head as he pouted.

-Don't even try, Furu. You're gonna say some bullshit like, "Zaki's still a brat too", right?

Now it was Furuhashi the one that didn't know how to reply to him, because Hara had predicted exactly what he was going to say. Really, that drummer could be really clever at times, even without trying. Something unexpected coming from such a careless individual.

···

Unlike Furuhashi, who actually lived in Setagaya and was far more than used to said place -Yamazaki had been born in Setagaya too, but his family moved to Meguro little before he joined high school-, Hara barely knew anything about Setagaya. He came from Sapporo itself, and had moved to Meguro during his third year of middle school, after a certain incident that shaped him into the person he was right now. The only times he'd ever visited Setagaya were either during holidays, or during short tours with his band. The city was almost unknown to him, except for the so-called Carrot Tower, the Todoroki Valley, and diverse restaurants and cafés he'd visited with his bandmates.

(Hanamiya had lived in Meguro for his entire life, and Seto had moved from numerous cities before, including Fushimi.)

After their meal, Furuhashi had thought about having them rest at his home, yet at the same time he wanted to drive them back at Hanamiya's home. After all, Hara claimed that he just wanted to take Hanamiya on a walk: he'd never mentioned that he wanted to guide Hanamiya through the silent streets of Setagaya, nor that he had no idea about Setagaya itself. He thought about it for a while, until Furuhashi finally came to the conclusion that he should just let them rest at home, since his parents and his little sister would be more than alright with that.

···

A 2-hour walk couldn't be worse than Hanamiya's ridiculous practice schedules. Anybody that had played at Kirisaki Daiichi's basketball team during Hanamiya's era knew this, almost as if it had been carved in their hearts. Neither Furuhashi nor Hara could forget those horrendous summer training camps, during which many players felt like as if they were going to faint, or even die at some point. Not to mention the so-called rough play, which both men felt regretful towards now. Hara had only agreed with him because of his boredom, and Furuhashi perhaps respected Hanamiya too much.

But rough play was now long gone. It was something Furuhashi had practically forgoten about, and that he would soon find out that was more than just breaking a boy's knee. Hara had almost forgotten about it, but sometimes would recall certain matches during which he'd been, maybe, a little ruthless. Back then, nobody had ever thought that they would regret following Hanamiya's orders. Not even Hanamiya himself, whoses main goal towards basketball was just to ruin his rival team, would've thought that he'd ever be disappointed with himself.

He couldn't recall it now, but it wasn't until he turned 20 that he slowly began to regret those actions. More than one year after his basketball career ended and Kirisaki Daiichi's basketball team ended up in good hands, he began to ask himself many questions concerning his old basketball team. Hanamiya himself didn't even know why he'd choose such a path: he always claimed that he enjoyed seeing athletes in pain, as well as their teammates panicking over them, but he didn't know the actual reason as why he played like that. And there was an actual reason as why things turned out to be like that, but, at the moment, he didn't remember.

···

They spent about an hour and a half at Furuhashi's place: for some reason, perhaps out of boredom, Hanamiya chose to help Furuhashi's little sister with her studies, while Hara and Furuhashi spoke about their lives and the past as well as they sat near the garden. It didn't took Hara too long to take pictures of said garden, claiming that he found it "astonishing".

When they began discussing about the past, the very first topic that came up was high school. Hara wasn't in the mood to talk about it, as he wanted to make sure Hanamiya had truly recalled him by testing him. Both Furuhashi and his younger sister would stop him as soon as he attempted it, though, and Hanamiya would've surprised him if it had happened. Hanamiya hadn't been paying too much attention to them: instead, he found out that many subjects, specially Chemistry, were more than easy to him. At the same time, he recalled being one of the smartest, if not the most intelligent student at a certain school he couldn't remember. People either praised or complained about him, but he just didn't pay any attention to them: after all, Hanamiya hadn't show them his true intelligence.

It wasn't until Hara made a certain question that Furuhashi began to think.

-Furu - he muttered, with his hidden eyes fixed in the garden in front of them -, what if Hana-chan can't recall the team at all? What if he's unable to remember our old school too?

The smaller man lowered his head, joining his fingers together as he tried to come up with a response that wouldn't let Hara down. But Hara's voice hadn't cracked at any moment, nor he looked any worried: he'd just asked out of curiosity, but at the same time, it was a possibility. It wasn't certain that Hanamiya would recall everything he'd forgotten, and both men knew it fairly well.

Furuhashi thought about it for a moment, and, while he couldn't come up with any response, he replied anyway, cracking his neck and raising his head before he said anything.

-Who knows. But, I don't think he could forget us or high school that easily.

Upon this, Hara couldn't help but turn his head towards the smaller man, tilting it afterwards. Furuhashi couldn't tell how he was feeling at the moment, but he sensed a glimpse of both curiosity and insecurity on him.

-You sound really confident, Furu - he shook his shoulders. - I know we're supposed to take it easy, but...

-But you're afraid, aren't you.

-I know I'm being really goddamn immature, man - he complained, clicking his tongue afterwards. Hanamiya could hear them fairly well from the kotatsu, and sometimes even chuckled at Hara's words. - I'm aware I should be positive and all that shit, but seriously, thinkin' about that makes me cringe.

Furuhashi was well-known because of his clueless, quiet behavior. He was hardly disturbed by anything, except Hara, Yamazaki, and anything he didn't see coming. And each time Hanamiya became angered during a match, it made him slightly angry too, to the point he began to worry about his captain.

This time, however, it wasn't Hara the one that was disturbing him. It was his words, and the sudden thought that Hanamiya maybe wouldn't remember him. Of course, Furuhashi ignored this thought. At least, he tried, and told himself that it was such a stupid thought.

-Just give it time - he mumbled under his breath, and Hanamiya was unable to hear him. But Hara could, and pouted at him before taking a sip of his pineapple juice.

While Furuhashi claimed that it was nothing but a stupid thought, something that his mind had created just to scare him, he had to confess that, deep inside, he was kind of afraid. If Hanamiya didn't recall the team -no, if Hanamiya didn't recall him, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know how he'd end up after that.

···

After Furuhashi brought him back home, his mother received him with a hug that made him feel at ease. It'd been more than a hug, because Hanamiya found himself unable to describe how it felt like. He'd written many hugs, perhaps some kisses, and heartwarming meetings in his old novels: but, unlike them, he wasn't able to describe how that hug had felt.

It'd been more than a simple welcome. The way the woman embraced him, and how her hands warmly caressed his back, as well as her soft voice as she asked him about how it went, brought back short fragments from his childhood, and his adolescence as well. He saw that very same house, with that same garden, and that same woman asking him about school. And he'd briefly seen a man as well, which Hanamiya thought that was part of his family too. He'd assumed that he was his father. But he hadn't seen him before around home, nor at the hospital. He wasn't even certain of that man being his father.

His thoughts were interrupted as soon as his mother broke the hug. She ran her hand across Hanamiya's hair and gave him a kind smile afterwards, and the man felt thankful all of the sudden, not being able to explain why. Sighing, he followed her inside home: everything Hanamiya wanted at the moment was to take a short nap, and perhaps continue with his novel after he woke up. It wasn't that late, though: it was close to 5PM, and the sky had just started to turn orange, showing a beautiful light blue-orange gradient without any clouds obstructing it, which could've been a great inspiration for Hanamiya if he'd paid any attention to it.

···

The next day, it was a Sunday. The kind of day in which Hanamiya would just take it easy, writing short poetry and perhaps adding to his third novel, and the kind of day in which both Hara and Yamazaki would sleep until noon.

But that Sunday, August 14th, a miracle took place.

They'd met up at an oden stand the day before, and Hara told him about everything that had previously happened. All those events, as well as his not-so-short conversation with Furuhashi, gave Hara an idea that perhaps wasn't the best choice, but was worth trying. Yamazaki hadn't agreed with him at first, nor would do Seto, which Hara hadn't told about his idea. But Hara had never mentioned that he thought his idea would work, so he almost forced himself to agree with him.

-The thing is - Hara smirked -, we should have Hana-chan play basketball with us sometime. Maybe next week?

Sure, it sounded like a dumb idea, but it made sense to Yamazaki. He still frowned at Hara, thought, rather annoyed, waiting for the stand's owner to attend him.

-Does Hanamiya even have any clue on how to play basketball? Dribbling? Three-pointers? You can't just expect him to recall everything out of the blue, man.

For a moment, Yamazaki sounded smarter than he actually was. He sounded like Seto, who had corrected Hara many times in the past, as well as Hanamiya. The redhead pouted at his friend and they looked at each other for a dull moment, while Yamazaki tried to not distract himself because of the oden's smell. All of this drew a small giggle from Hara's mouth, and not many seconds passed until he began laughing, with people around them complaining about his laughter.

Yamazaki couldn't get angry with him. He was struggling with adulthood, maturity, and many things he didn't want to talk about, and throwing a random tantrum because his friend found something humorous wouldn't be an actual display of maturity. He was 24, for God's sake.

-But it'll be fun, Zaki - he grinned, tapping his fingers against the counter, and a tired Yamazaki sighed. He doubted about Hara's possible idea of having fun. - Just trust me. Maybe Hanamiya knows shit about basketball right now, but he'll remember. At least, a tiny bit.

Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. At least, Yamazaki would get to play basketball once again, after almost two years without having played.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are really appreciated!
> 
> (PS: I've actually researched a little about Setagaya and Meguro to write this. In this fic, KD is placed in Meguro. The ramen restaurant mentioned in this chapter is supposed to be "Setagaya", a ramen restaurant placed in... Setagaya. Also, if I had written this in spanish instead of english, I would probably be ending this fic right n ow.)
> 
> (PS2: I've been watching the BDGIM/Erased anime and an AU with Kiridaii (or perhaps Teiko?) would be great. The time-travel dynamics are interesting.)


	11. バスケ (Basketball)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya gets to play some basketball against two of his former teammates. There are also things going on at his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, school issues. But I finally managed to update. I have LOTS of upcoming exams, by the way, so don't really expect me to update until Semana Santa (a Spanish holiday).
> 
> I'm aware that this is a really long chapter: the longest one so far. But it's also an important chapter, for obvious reasons. You can tell that one of these scenes was something I've been planning to write for quite a long time. I've also made up lots of scenarios (usually related to this fic) in which Hanamiya regretted using rough play and harming all those people. You'll see why this chapter is important later on.
> 
> Hara and Yamazaki are incredibly fun (and easy!) to write, and I also felt like developing Hara's character a bit, since he's one of those characters which I could write an entire fic about. (And I would love to, but Fujimaki has pretty much killed KD and only 3 people in the fandom care about them anymore.) Meanwhile, Seto just seems too complex to me... He's kind of like Sensui from Yu Yu Hakusho, but... Not that serious? I don't know. He only got 4 minutes in the anime and Fujimaki never explained his actual personality (of course).
> 
> Now, back to this fic... The next chapter will entirely focus on Hana's backstory (or my own headcanons about it, since, well... This fic is 98% headcanons), and I've pretty much planned it. But then again, I have exams. Don't expect an early update.

Hara and Yamazaki had spent almost an entire day discussing about their upcoming basketball match. While Hara had been looking for an ideal date by himelf, Yamazaki had told Hanamiya's mother about their idea. And, of course, she had agreed with it, claiming that it could even be helpful to him if things turned alright. This didn't guarantee that Hanamiya would recall anything, though, but it was always nice to try. Yamazaki's eyes had lightened up upon her sudden response, almost as if he'd went back to his old self, and the woman couldn't be happier about it.

Hanamiya himself didn't know a single thing about this. It was supposed to be a surprise. And, sadly, Hanamiya had always been really good at noticing things, specially those that had to do with either him or his family. Because of this, each time his parents had wanted to throw a secret birthday party at him, he'd always found out before they could mention anything concerning it. Right now, however, his mother wasn't so sure about it, and had thought about telling Hanamiya. But it probably wouldn't be the best idea, because as soon as the date arrived and either Hara or Yamazaki showed up at their door, Hanamiya would probably ask her the reason as why she'd kept it from him.

It was unlikely that Hanamiya would react like that, though, since Hara would eventually tell him about their idea, perhaps asking Hanamiya if he remembered how to play basketball. That was the most possible outcome, and both him and Yamazaki knew it well. In fact, Hara was on the verge of telling him about it, and Yamazaki wouldn't be able to stop him once it happened, no matter how hard he tried, because Hara's impulses were stronger than the both of them. Either that, or it would remain as a surprise. But for Hara, who almost couldn't control his actions sometimes, it would be a dumb surprise, so telling Hanamiya wouldn't change anything. At least, that's what he thought.

On the other side, only him, Yamazaki and Hanamiya would be playing basketball. It was uncertain that Furuhashi would agree with them, since he would probably be busy with his cooking career. And Seto had already told him that he'd already made plans for the rest of the week, adding that he wasn't that interested in basketball anymore. Hara found this disappointing, since he'd been aiming for a small gathering between all of them. He hadn't thought about Imayoshi, Hanamiya's strange senpai, since not only Hara didn't understand his personality at all: Imayoshi didn't belong to their group, so he found it pointless. And, to him, it seemed like him and Hanamiya didn't exactly get along, and the rest of the group (specially Yamazaki) couldn't handle his behavior. Imayoshi wasn't someone they would have to worry about, though.

Back to their planning, it didn't took them too long to choose a date. Hara had initially thought about that Tuesday, 16th, but after Yamazaki woke up with the worst of headaches because of a long stream that took place the night before, they changed the date to that Thursday, 18th, since Hara didn't have band practice that day. Hara had thought about the next weekend too, but Yamazaki had already planned a fairly long stream on Saturday, so he immediately rejected that idea. Yamazaki had originally intended their gathering to take place on the 18th, but had kept said idea for himself, since he wanted to know which date Hara would come up with.

And, now that they had decided on a date, and a place (a small park near Yamazaki's floor, which featured a basketball court), all they could do was wait. Despite being really impatient, Yamazaki had no trouble while waiting, because he was already busy enough with his streams and his part-time job, so he could handle it. Meanwhile, Hara's band hadn't recorded many songs lately, and one of its members was struggling with personal issues at the moment, so all he could do was stay at home and listen to old albums he'd bought as a teenager, waiting for the 18th to finally arrive.

He was bored. Everything was boring. At least his older brother was around, but it wasn't like they cared that much for each other. Sometimes Hara wondered about the reason as why he wouldn't move with people, rather than just bothering his older brother. There was an actual reason as why Hara chose to stay close to one of his relatives, instead of looking for some roommates. He claimed that it was his entire fault, when it wasn't: it wasn't Hara's fault that his social anxiety almost forbade him from talking with people he didn't know. He highly doubted that he would be able to live with more than one person, specially if he didn't know them.

That was one of the many thoughts that chased Hara until past-midnight, until all the lights were over and his brother had fell asleep on the sofa. One of the many thoughts that didn't allow him to fall asleep at all, and that sometimes kept him awake until nearly 4 in the morning. The room itself was entirely dark, with only a dim amount of light coming from the window, and everything was so silent that Hara could almost hear his blood circulate through his veins, as well as his breathing. This, and his insomnia, made it almost impossible for Hara to totally fall asleep.

-Fuck me _dead_ \- he muttered, trying to fall asleep. - I really should've moved with Zaki.

And it wouldn't have been the best option, though. No matter how comfortable Hara felt around Yamazaki: Hell would have frozen over if Hara had moved with Yamazaki. Sure, they got along, but the redhead would probably be unable to endure Hara for any longer than a month. And Hara didn't want to feel like a nuisance, specially if it was one of his former teammates - _specially_ if it was Yamazaki, one of the few people Hara felt safe around. And if, for some reason, Yamazaki had abandoned Hara during high school, or just ignored him out of the blue, then Hara wouldn't know what to do, because Yamazaki had been one of the few people to ever accept his true self.

 _No_. That wasn't the moment to think about that. Hara thought that he'd forgotten about that incident. After all, it took place over 10 years ago, and his entire family thought that Hara had gotten over it. Hara had been doing his best in order to recover from it, and to regain his self-confidence and his self-esteem. He'd even tried to improve his social skills. But, as soon as he got reminded of the smallest event: as soon as his mind decided to throw back the smallest memory at him, his day was ruined. Hara hadn't learned to control his impulses yet, but had learned to control his several urges to break down, and, each time that happened; each time he got reminded of that one event that almost ruined his life, he tried his best in order to not break down in front of anybody.

...Hell, why was he recalling that specific event right now? Hara just wanted to sleep, and to rest in general. He didn't want to recall the most outrageous event he'd lived. He didn't want to be reminded of the reason as why he couldn't trust people anymore: the reason as why he became clingy to anyone that was somewhat kind to him, to the point he could break down if that person ever abandoned him. He didn't want to be reminded of an event which he thought was his own fault, and that he hadn't overcame yet.

Hara wasn't willing to spend yet another hour wondering about how his life would've been like if that event hadn't took place. He was supposed to be sleeping, not in the verge of a late-night existential crisis. Instead of brooding over something he was supposed to forget, Hara should be excited about that small basketball match he would play against Hanamiya (and, perhaps, another one against Yamazaki) the very next day. But he couldn't: he was just unable to. During those times in which a traumatic event would knock at the door at midnight, no matter how much Hara tried to change his thoughts, and focus on the important stuff. His memories were sometimes much stronger than him, to the point Hara would just let them in, without even trying.

-What the hell, Kazuya - he muttered to himself, feeling a lump in his throat, as if he was about to cry. - Just fucking fall asleep, goddammit. No need to distract yourself w-with this personal _crap_.

But falling asleep would be harder than he thought. As soon as Hara closed his eyes, he began to hear those voices, and all those insults and harmful words he'd been told during middle school. He saw all those kids, between the ages of 12 and 13, laughing at him, as if he'd done something wrong. Their laughter, devil-like, became unforgettable once again, resonating inside his ears, and now Hara found himself truly unable to fall asleep. For a brief moment, he saw himself walking through his old middle school's hall, tainted by nothing but mutters and many rumours about him.

Hara did his best to ignore it, but it was too strong. It was all coming back at once. It was so strong, both his head and his stomach began to hurt, and he felt a sudden urge to cry, which he tried to hold back. But he couldn't: everything felt incredibly vivid, and, for some reason, Hara was unable to recall anything that took place before those events. Hara couldn't recall which kind of person he'd been before he turned 13, nor he knew how he could've lived through all of that. Sometimes he totally ignored said events, even forgetting them at times, but each time he found himself bored, or even slighty melancholic, those memories came back at him, stronger than before, with Hara being practically unable to stop them.

Quickly turning to the side, Hara grasped the sheets, trying to hold back his tears. If only it was that easy to calm down, to live without constantly worrying about your surroundings and whatever people could think about you. Even around his former team, or Yamazaki himself, Hara couldn't help but to feel anxious, as if they were thinking badly about him, even wondering if they were going to abandon him. Yamazaki had reassured him many times regarding this, and while Hanamiya had pretended not to care, he was the team's coach after all, and had once told Hara that they were a team and, therefore, they were supposed to support each other. "Regret" had been written all over his face, and he was just trying to calm down Hara, but it had surprisingly worked. After all, Hanamiya wasn't that careless captain everybody thought he was. Just that he didn't show it too often.

"Hana-chan would totally think about me as some sort of idiot if he saw me like this", he thought as he took a deep breath, trying to repress his feelings and slowly trying to sleep.

···

The court in which the men were supposed to meet was, surprisingly, near their old school. At first, Yamazaki hadn't recognized said park, since it'd been recently built, and all he knew was that it was nearby "a familiar place". Hara hadn't told him anything else, and Yamazaki, who had picked up Hanamiya by himself, knew many familiar places that weren't his old high school. At first, he'd thought about Tonki. Then, they ended up at a gaming shop which Yamazaki frequently visited. But it wasn't until he dragged Hanamiya through the silent streets of Meguro for nearly half an hour that Yamazaki got tired and realized that "a familiar place" and "a place someone usually visits" weren't the same, and that they'd been wasting their time.

And, while Hanamiya still hadn't recalled anything concerning their old school, he knew where it was located, and he knew about that park. But he wanted to test Yamazaki, so he decided to say nothing until Yamazaki got tired and gave up. Yamazaki did got tired, but instead of giving up and getting angry at himself and everybody, he used logic for the first time of his life. Not only Yamazaki had been surprised at himself when he did it: Hanamiya had to admit that it'd been unexpected. It was the proof that, unlike he'd thought, the redhead had actually grown up. At least, he was trying to, because Hanamiya sensed a bit of insecurity on him. But, when hasn't Yamazaki felt the smallest degree of uneasiness?

Hara was able to sense that very same uneasiness once both men made it to the park, patting Yamazaki's shoulder as soon as he arrived. It was Hara's very own way of telling him to keep calm. He claimed that he'd chose that park because it was small, when he'd actually chosen it because it was near Kirisaki Daiichi High, their old school, and Yamazaki knew it well. Said park was also near their former gymnasium, and Hara's apartment as well. Rather than discussing Yamazaki about other possible places in which they could meet up, Hara chose a self-indulgent option. It didn't mean that said park had been a bad option, though.

The basketball court was hidden behind many tall, leafy trees, whoses dark-green leaves nearly covered the Sun. At the moment, the park was almost empty, with only them and some children wandering around, surrounded by a cicada's chants and lots of trees, bushes and flowers, and Hara could recognize some azaleas and erica, as well as small clovers inbetween some bushes. Hara only knew their names thanks to Furuhashi, whom he'd wanted to attend their small gathering, but had refused, claiming that he wasn't interested. He would send him some pictures of that place later, though, and wouldn't hesitate to tell Furuhashi to go out with them at some point. Aside from that, Hara saw a big, clean fountain in front of them, along a rusted plaque with the park's name engraved on it.

And so, while Yamazaki and Hanamiya searched for the basketball court, Hara got distracted while taking pictures of that park. That bright blue sky, and those tall buildings that scratched it, as well as the high school right next to it, which Hara wanted to visit once again more than anything, made him feel at ease. He could spend the entire day just taking pictures and sending them to Furuhashi, asking him about each flower he managed to find, and he wouldn't regret it. But that wasn't the exact day to do so, since he'd promised Yamazaki that he would play, at least, a single match against Hanamiya. Not that Hara was in his best condition to play basketball, though: true was that he played drums almost every day, but it was different, since he could only remember how to dribble and throw 2-pointers. "At least Hana-chan doesn't remember how to play too", he told himself before heading to the court.

The court was big, clean and empty: exactly what Hara wanted, aside from sitting near the wall and listening to music. He'd wanted either Furuhashi or Seto to assist to their small gathering, but at the same time, he didn't want to, since Yamazaki would've forced them to play a 2-on-2 if it'd happened. Meanwhile, the redhead just wanted to play some matches and have a good time, without keeping in mind that he was really rusty at the moment. When he had to play against Hanamiya, he'd make sure to go easy on him, unless Hanamiya suddenly recalled how to play basketball and gave him a hard time. If he had to play against Hara, however, it would be like the old times, except that Hara wasn't that good at stealing anymore. Yamazaki wasn't sure about Hara playing against Hanamiya, though, but would _force_ him to do so if Hara didn't want to. And he did want to play basketball against Hanamiya, but only to not disappoint Yamazaki.

Grabbing a basketball with both of his hands, Yamazaki stepped towards a basket and bounced the basketball against the floor, raising his had to take a better look at the basket. It all brought back such wonderful memories from his childhood: those days when Yamazaki lived in Setagaya and would hang out with his friends and his older brother and play basketball together, when he didn't have to worry about any upcoming exams and his future in general. High school hadn't been that bad, though, but it was the incredible amount of pressure his parents put into him what made him hate studying on the first place. Yamazaki was already uncertain about his future at that point, since there were many things which he wanted to do, but after being constantly pressed by his parents and made fun of by his older brothers, it became even harder to decide. Specially after he enrolled in a certain elite school and met a certain prodigy and a boy whoses IQ easily surpased his.

Yamazaki came back to Earth when someone smacked his back with such strength that he almost yelled, dropping the basketball. Because he got distracted thinking about his childhood, he didn't hear Hara and Hanamiya calling him by his many nicknames, and an annoyed Hanamiya had sneaked behind him in order to bring him back. And not only it had worked: Yamazaki didn't yell back at him, or anything alike. Instead, he simply turned to his old captain, scowling at him with a fairly noticeable pout on his mouth, which drew a loud cackle from Hanamiya's. So far, it was one of the most ridiculous faces he'd ever made at someone: the kind of face which Hanamiya wouldn't have tolerated during his basketball career, and that would've made Yamazaki almost faint in the middle of the gym.

-Oi, Yama - he smirked, raising his head to take a better look at the taller man -, weren't we supposed to play basketball or something? Why're we here on the first place?

-Ain't it obvious, Hana-chan? - Hara yelled, leaning against the wall, waiting for both men to start playing so he could record a small video. - We'd like to play some good ol' basketball against you, that's all. Do you even remember how to play?

Hanamiya tilted his head, turning to Hara, and then turned back to Yamazaki and shook his shoulders at him. For Yamazaki, it didn't seem like he could remember anything, despite him being formerly known as one of the Uncrowned Kings. And Hara would've loved to call him "Bad Boy", with the only purpose of pissing him off, but he could've risked his own life if Hanamiya recalled it.

-I can try. Didn't we use to play on a basketball team, though?

As soon as he pronounced those words, Hara and Yamazaki looked at each other as if a miracle was about to take place. Of course, those memories wouldn't come alone, because at the same time Hanamiya recalled the basketball team, he would also remember all those people he tried to injure (and injured) during his high school years. Neither Hara nor Yamazaki knew how he could react if he recalled any of this, while both Furuhashi and Seto had a slight idea of his possible reaction.

On the other side, his basketball career was something that Hanamiya had been hiding from his mother ever since a certain incident took place during his very first year of middle school. Not only she barely spent time at home due to her job, but she also had to deal with the fact that she had to raise a child all by herself, and lots of pressure coming from the society back then. Hanamiya had to keep his basketball career all for himself, because he didn't want to put any more pressure on her, and because it was the most logical thing to do. After all, he would've hated to disappoint her in any way.

But it was mostly like as if she would soon find out about all of this.

As he picked up the basketball from the floor, Yamazaki grinned and threw the basketball at him, hoping that Hanamiya would catch it. And he did! Not only that, but for a dull second, he got reminded of their old basketball team, and the way his teammates treated him like, specially the second years. Rather than fear, it was respect: after all, they were good friends, and Hanamiya needed them to trust him and each other so they could use their infamous rough play.

All of the sudden, Hanamiya felt like he could aim for a three-pointer. Back then, Yamazaki had been their team's shooting guard, but he'd only learned to shoot three-pointers during his third -and last- year, which Hanamiya had found rather disappointing back then. The redhead stared at him as if Hanamiya was about to do something important -as if he was ready to go one-on-one against him, and switched to a more defensive stance. It was just like the old times, except that now Yamazaki didn't have to worry about rough play and somebody getting injured.

" _Bring it on, Hanamiya._ "

···

-Why'd you expect me to score, Yama? Seriously. It's been six years.

And he wasn't lying: after high school was over, Hanamiya gave up on basketball. He didn't have an exact reason as why he did it, but during his third year, basketball had become rather boring to him. Perhaps it had to do with the team's rough play, but Hanamiya hadn't paid too much attention to it. But rough play was the main reason as why he chose basketball: the sport itself was almost secondary to him.

Ever since high school ended, Hanamiya had never played nor mentioned basketball, not even once. He didn't want to be remembered as the "Bad Boy", nor he wanted people to remember anything regarding him and his former team. Attention wasn't what he was looking for back then, when he and his team injured all those players. It was close to some sort of relief; something that had happened out of boredom. So, when Hanamiya turned 20 and finally realized the many mistakes he'd made during both middle and high school, he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed with himself.

Back to Earth, Yamazaki, who'd sometimes played basketball during his free time, was trying his best in order not to laugh at Hanamiya. He'd just attempted to shoot a three-pointer, and the redhead could spent countless days complaining about his posture, as well as the way he held the ball. And, of course, Hanamiya's attempt resulted in failure; a failure which nearly drowned Yamazaki into endless laughter. It was Hara the one that ended up laughing, hoping that he could've recorded that moment with his phone.

-I-I don't know, but your position-

-It was wrong, and I hadn't lowered my knees enough - he raised an eyebrow. - But you just can't expect me to score on my first try.

An annoyed Yamazaki pouted as he picked up the basketball from nearby the basket. That Hanamiya still could predict anything he was about to say wasn't exactly surprising to him, though, as Yamazaki was pretty much used to it at this point. He said nothing as he stepped back, holding the basketball with a single hand as he took a deep breath, slowly learning to control his many impulses, as well as his rage sprouts. Something his teenage self would have never seen coming.

Tying his hair on a ponytail, Hanamiya glanced at Hara for a moment. It didn't look like Hara would play basketball either against him or Yamazaki, since he seemed too focused on his music. Slowly shaking his head back and forth to the beat of the music, it didn't seem like Hara was paying any attention to them. And he wouldn't, unless something funny or interesting happened and he could laugh at any of his friends. Hara wasn't even interested in playing basketball with them; he was there because he couldn't think about anything entertaining to do, despite previously having told Yamazaki that he wanted them to hang out together.

-Fine - the redhead groaned, cracking his neck as he threw the ball back to Hanamiya. - Remember how to play?

-I can try - he shook his shoulders.

Unsure on how to reply, Yamazaki nodded at him. Hanamiya hadn't exactly forgotten everything regarding basketball: he knew how to dribble, steal, and his teardrop shot. He'd also recalled that he used to lead a team, that he used to play with those very same people, and that he once played basketball with Imayoshi, his former _senpai_.

With the sun dazzling on his eyes, Yamazaki sighed, and stepped back once again. His patience had began to drop ever since Hanamiya failed that three-pointer; he'd been looking forward for a thrilling match, but all he'd got was a man that had almost forgotten how to play basketball, and another man that didn't truly want to play against him. It was even worse than having to endure Hanamiya's terrifying, overwhelming practice schedules, and nothing compared to Yamazaki's family. At least, he could get along his teammates, but only up to a certain point.

The redhead eyed his former captain once again: "boredom" was written all over his face, and he could perceive a slight degree of haste on Hanamiya's olive-green eyes, as if he'd gotten tired of all the waiting. Yamazaki could relate to him, but not that much. Pouting at his former captain, Yamazaki threw him the ball once again.

-I-I'll make the rules then - he stuttered. Hanamiya nodded at him, which was a good sign. - The first one to score 10 points wins. As simple as that. If you get bored, Hara could play instead.

Hanamiya ended up agreeing with him. After all, he didn't have anything to do that day, except writing and perhaps going for a walk with his mother at the evening. His third novel didn't exactly worry him, though, as Hanamiya wanted to follow Furuhashi's advice and take his time, instead of updating as quick as he could.

To say that Hanamiya's novels resembled his own life wasn't enough; he'd actually based them off his own life, just that he'd changed a few things, so they didn't resemble his entire life. This could be easily noticeable in some characters, such as the main's character childhood friend, and a student that would eventually become a key character in the series, were based on his former teammates (Furuhashi and Yamazaki, concretely), as well as the main character's mother. But Hanamiya wasn't one to read his own novels, unless he had to check for possible grammar mistakes. So, despite being the author himself, sometimes he'd even forgotten small details.

On the other side, Hanamiya was looking forward to his match against Yamazaki. Just like that park, and Hara's sudden withdrawn behavior, it could serve as inspiration for later chapters on his new novel.

···

The outcome had been predictable, even to Hara himself, who hadn't been paying too much attention to their match. Yamazaki had obviously won, which all of them had found surprising, since Hanamiya wouldn't have let him during high school. But that wasn't high school: it was adulthood, and it was the first time Hanamiya had played basketball after almost 6 years.

So, it wasn't any surprise that he'd only won a single round out of five. The previous four rounds, Yamazaki had won them consecutively, with Hanamiya almost surpassing him during the third one. Throughout the match, he had recalled how to steal, which had truly helped him during the fifth round. Hanamiya had also noticed how rusty he'd become; while he could still _predict_ Yamazaki's plays, most of Hanamiya's shots hardly went in. His accuracy had decreased drastically, and, while he wasn't that interested in basketball anymore, he felt the need to improve.

But he wouldn't train himself until death just now, when he found himself more tired than anything. With Yamazaki's permission, Hanamiya took a break, and sat down next to Hara, who was too focused on his phone to pay attention to him. He still was listening to music, while messaging some friends.

Hanamiya eventually found out that the person Hara was messaging was none other than Furuhashi: ever since Yamazaki and Hanamiya's short match began, he'd been sending multiple screenshots and short videos to him. Because of Hara being too focused on the music, he didn't notice Hanamiya peeking at his phone, nor he'd heard Hanamiya asking him about those messages and about what he was doing. It wasn't until he began snapping his fingers at him, that Hara took off his headphones, thus turning to him.

-What's it now, Hana-chan? You got tired of playin'? - he complained, as he put his phone inside one of his pockets. Hanamiya made a face at him, slightly annoyed. - And what's with that face?

-Do you even want to play basketball on the first place?

Turning his head away from the smaller man, Hara clicked his tongue. He'd been caught. The main reason as why he'd wanted them to hang out together, and to play basketball, was so he could clear his mind. Hell, Hara didn't even want to play basketball at all -he too had become kind of rusty at it, since band practice and recording sessions took up most of his time. Even during summer it was hard for him to find some free time, so he _had_ to feel grateful.

"As predictable as usual", Hanamiya laughed to himself. But it wasn't exactly a surprise, since adulthood wasn't the same for everyone: for Hanamiya, who'd been taking care of himself since an early age because of his mother's absence, adulthood had almost came naturally. Meanwhile, Hara had gotten everything he'd wished for during his entire youth, and now that he'd finally began to _work_ , he'd been slowly learning that life wasn't as easy as he'd thought.

But Hara didn't felt like talking about adulthood and things alike at the moment, so he quickly came up with a topic which would be interesting for them both.

-Say, Hana-chan - he mumbled, and the smaller man turned his gaze to him -, you know you used to be our team's captain, right?

-Right - Hanamiya nodded. - I used to coach the team too, and you guys complained a lot about my practice schedules. Specially _you_.

-That's because they sucked! Sometimes I thought that you wanted to turn us into killing machines, y'know.

Hanamiya remained calm; his younger self could've _killed_ Hara if he'd found that comment any offensive, but he wasn't 17 years old anymore, both physically and mentally. He didn't even frown at Hara, since he was already used to him and his many quirks, and simply ignored him.

That comment managed to drag a soft cackle from him, though. It also brought back small memories from the basketball team, in which Hanamiya would even force some of his teammates to run nearly 50 laps around the gym if they couldn't keep up with their schedule. Back then, he was really strict regarding his teammates and his team is general, as he needed players with good, almost perfect fundaments, in order to fully perform Hanamiya's carefully-planned plays.

-And you could've left if you wanted to - Hanamiya's sudden words struck Hara like nothing had before. The latter silently lowered his head. - Anything else you want to tell me?

"Bein' honest, you should be more respectful towards me, shouldn't you."

-Hana-chan - the black-haired man smirked, slowly raising his head as he watched Yamazaki play -, remember anything from high school?

-Quite a few things. Each time Furuhashi shows up at home, that's the only thing he ever talks about - he softly cackled, squinting his eyes before the sunlight, and Hara couldn't help but wonder how desperate Furuhashi must be regarding Hanamiya's memories.

For Hara, is strange to not hear Furuhashi's name from Hanamiya's lips. He can't help but wonder what could trigger Hanamiya's memories regarding Furuhashi: it could be something related to high school, or perhaps Furuhashi would try and repeat that one scene he'd made during their graduation. Maybe it wouldn't need any trigger, and it would happen out of the blue. But Hara had thought about some kind of dramatic scene that would take place once Hanamiya called Furuhashi's name again; exacty like a scene Hanamiya wanted to put on his third novel.

He'd first recalled Yamazaki after the redhead complained about one of Hanamiya's drabbles -specifically, a memory he'd written down- being too long for him. Later, he'd recalled Seto because of the latter's inferiority complex towards Hanamiya, which both of them had thought that had disappeared. And, recently, Hanamiya had recalled Hara, because of his insecurity regarding his future and his many doubts about adulthood. Other memories, including high school and his childhood, had often come by themselves, and some of them even felt foreign to him.

-D-Do you remember that huge library they had?

Hara's words drew a tiny smile on Hanamiya's face. Kirisaki Daiichi's library was probably one of his favorite places during his youth. That place was everything he could wish for: quiet, with a charming atmosphere and full of books. And, for a bookworm like him, libraries and bookstores were something close to Heaven itself.

On the other side, Hanamiya had noticed the way Hara tapped his fingers against his knees. It was fast-paced, as if something had been bothering him lately, and he'd easily noticed how Hara's fingers were trembling. Obviously, it wasn't the first time he'd seen such a thing coming from Hara. He didn't look that anxious, though.

Hanamiya wouldn't just tell him now, though.

-You used to spend the entire fuckin' day there, Hana-chan. I still find it ridiculous.

-Ridiculous? - he cackled, it being that laugh that managed to send shivers down Hara's spine each time. - Says the one that bought one CD each day. Your habits are even worse than mine, _Kazuya_.

"Now he's making fun of me", Hara thought to himself. "Nice one, you dumbass."

The drummer hadn't noticed, but his eyes were slightly visible, and Hanamiya could see them. It was that baby blue tone Hanamiya had only seen twice before, and that Hara tried to hide as much as possible, since he didn't want anybody to bother him about his eyes, nor he wanted to make eye contact with anybody. Not only was he bad at eye contact, but it also added to his anxiety; the main reason as why he'd let his bangs grow throughout high school.

It hadn't took him too long to notice.

-And, by the way, Hana-chan - Hara spoke, hoping that he could change the topic back to high school -, you got tons of love letters back then. Those people-

-Hara, did you sleep well last night?

On a heartbeat, Hara turned to him, shocked. For a moment he'd thought that Hanamiya had found the actual reason as why he behaved like that. But reality and fiction are never the same, and his thoughts were wrong, just like him.

-W-Well-

-Those are some nasty bags, really. You really should learn how to manage your time.

Hara couldn't help but to pout at his former captain. It wasn't exactly an habit, but sometimes, when Hanamiya noticed certain changes in someone's behavior -specially one of his teammates-, he would often play a joke on them, by making them believe that he knew what was going on with them. Sometimes he knew, sometimes he didn't, but Hanamiya liked to see that shocked, annoyed look on their faces.

Really, Makoto Hanamiya wasn't the best example on how to lead a team.

-Don't you think it's easy, Hana-chan-

Before Hara could even finish his sentence, a basketball rolled near his legs. Neither he nor Hanamiya had been paying much attention, but Yamazaki had been playing basketball against some kids as they spoke. For the redhead, those kids were better opponents than Hanamiya and Hara could ever be, as they actually wanted to play basketball.

Even so, Yamazaki ended up winning against them, and the reason couldn't be more obvious. That's why, after he picked up the basketball from the floor, he kneeled down in order to speak to Hara, who was more bored than anything. The man's eyes were entirely visible now, but, at this point, he didn't care at all. All Hara wanted now was to go back home and take a nap; he would probably end up missing that evening's rehearsal. It was one of those days in which he just didn't want to do anything, and it was thanks to some flashbacks he'd had the previous night. It wasn't his fault that his motivation was gone that day, but he felt like it was.

So, when Yamazaki fixed his forest-green eyes on Hara's blue ones, in such a way which made it seem like Yamazaki was peering into his soul, Hara almost yelled at him. That sudden eye contact had caught him by surprise. Yamazaki would've wished to get Hara's attention without having to use eye contact, but otherwise, he wouldn't have made it. Hara wasn't exactly afraid of him: instead, he'd lowered his head just like a small child would've done. Yamazaki actually found it kind of cute, even interesting, and withdrew his gaze, patting Hara's shoulder, in order to help him calm down.

With a soft smile, the redhead stood up, and lowered his gaze towards Hara, who still had to recover from their eye contact. It had been something almost new to him; he'd felt like Yamazaki's gaze had pierced his soul, and no, it hadn't felt good at all. On Yamazaki's side, as soon as he'd fixed his eyes on Hara's, he'd become amazed. He still couldn't really understand why Hara had to cover his eyes all the time, though.

-Hara - he spoke, and said man raised his head at him, tired -, you... You actually want to play, don't you?

A few basketball matches wouldn't hurt.

Meanwhile, Hanamiya took a quick look at his phone. It was near 12PM, and for a moment, he wondered about how his mother was doing.

···

-So, what brings you here, Seto-kun?

The taller man sat around the kotatsu, resting his hands on his lap as he looked around that living room. It was as tidy and minimalistic-like as he could remember, and it made him feel at ease. But Seto hadn't shown up at Hanamiya's home just for the sake of sightseeing.

-It's quite hard to explain - he spoke, fixing his gaze on a basket placed on the kotatsu, and the woman sat on the other side of the kotatsu, holding one of her son's novels. - Miss, you remember that Makoto used to play basketball, right?

With a small, kind smile on her face, the woman turned her face to their garden for a brief moment. Hanamiya wasn't one to keep things from her, though, but basketball was almost an exception to this. He'd barely mentioned basketball to her, and it was kind of reasonable, but the woman sometimes couldn't help but wonder why her son never spoke about his team, or their upcoming matches.

...Which was exactly the reason as why Seto had decided to visit her.

-He used to, but Makoto barely told me about his team - her smile suddenly faded as she turned her head back and fixed her warm gaze on Seto's -, which seems kind of strange to me.

For Seto, who'd seen and lived all kinds of atrocities which had happened at their team, it was anything but strange. The few times he'd seen Hanamiya interact with his mother had made him notice how much Hanamiya respected that woman. Sometimes, Hanamiya didn't even look like his usual self. While Seto thought about it as something strange, it seemed _normal_ to him too.

But the main reason as why Hanamiya had never mentioned anything, not even after his basketball career was over, was more than obvious. His mother had always thought about him as a goodie two-shoes (which, ironically, were the kind of people that Hanamiya hated the most), and the man didn't want that image to fade. He didn't want his mother to see that dark side of his, not to see him as the kind of monster he'd become during high school. Not even after Hanamiya came in terms with his old self and his former actions he'd thought about telling his mother about it.

Because Hanamiya knew that he wouldn't be able to handle her reaction.

-Hanamiya-san - Seto sighed, feeling how his throat slightly dried up as he spoke -, there's actually a reason as why Makoto never told you about it, but I don't think you might like to hear it.

The woman gulped. She didn't know what to expect. Never before she'd thought that her son had been hiding things from her, since Hanamiya was exceptionally good at hiding things from people, even from those close to him.

-I'm alright with that - her expression turned aloof, and Seto lowered his head before proceeding.

-First of all - he spoke with such a voice that it was enough to describe his current state of mind -, you know that Makoto used to be the captain of our team, right?

-Yes. Sometimes he complained about you and the rest of the team.

That last comment brought a tiny smile to Seto's face, but it quickly faded away as he thought about how their conversation would develop. He didn't know Hanamiya's mother as well as Furuhashi did, though, but he was well aware of the fact that the woman thought about Hanamiya as some angelic-like child, since he'd never mentioned certain things to her.

On the other side, she was _right_. Hanamiya used to complain a lot about them, but most of the time he didn't mean it in an offensive way. It was his own way of telling his teammates how they could improve themselves and their fundamentals as way, but sometimes he acted on a harsh way towards some of them -specially Yamazaki, since Hanamiya had sometimes suspected that he just didn't want to use rough play at all, which he'd slightly disagreed with.

But that wasn't the matter. Seto just wanted to tell her as quickly as possible and then leave. It would be a bitter pill to swallow, though, since Seto didn't want to have any regrets regarding their conversation. Sure, it wasn't that serious, but there was something about it that made him sort of uncomfortable.

-Well, Makoto wasn't just our captain - Seto spoke, and his comment awoke the woman's curiosity. But her curiosity, as well as that tiny spark on her eyes, wouldn't last for too long. - He used to coach us as well.

Her eyes twitched for a mild second, almost as if she had blinked, and quietly raised her eyebrows upon Seto's words. The man had been expecting a reaction just like that. Her current expression heavily reminded Seto of Hanamiya, but they were mother and son after all.

Now, the woman didn't just want to know about how Hanamiya treated his teammares as a coach. She was curious about how he had become the team's coach, since it would've been impossible for the Kirisaki Daiichi school to not hire a good one. To her, it seemed like their old coach had retired.

And here is when rough play finally showed up. If Seto were to explain how Hanamiya became the team's coach, he would also have to explain the kind of team they used to be. He would have to tell her about all the opponents they had injured in the past; about Hanamiya's satisfied, yet bloodthirst expressions each time he looked at any of them, with a sharp, cold grin that was more than enough to frighten them.

It probably wouldn't be enough.

-Please, tell me - she stopped for a moment and sighed - about how Makoto became your coach.

On moments like these, Seto wished he could've taken Furuhashi with him. But the latter was busy with some projects he had to finish, which were mostly related to cooking. Furuhashi would probably have issues while telling her the entire explanation, though, so it didn't truly matter whether he'd assisted or not.

Seto aimed for a short explanation. Short enough for him to not keep going on and on about it, but also detailed enough to not keep explaining himself all over. However, he knew beforehand that he couldn't just tell her about their rough play and leave. Their conversation would sure go on for a while.

-I don't really know, since I joined the team after Makoto became our coach - he rested his arms on the kotatsu, joining his fingertips together. - But someone told me that he wiped out the team's previous coach. Something about a concussion.

The woman didn't look really surprised before this. Instead, she just lowered her eyes, wondering how her son could've done something like that. It didn't just happen with their high school coach; during his first year of middle school, Hanamiya had already thought about taking over that basketball team. Too bad that Imayoshi had been there to stop him -and, also, predict most of his moves.

High school had been different. Imayoshi wasn't there to avoid anything, and, at the very start of his second year, Hanamiya had total control over the basketball team. He also had common sense, and didn't lead that team through fear and pointless orders. Instead, he actually got along with them -how else would've he fulfilled all his schemes?-, but it didn't stop some third years, along a first year, from leaving the team as soon as he gained control.

Adjusting her position, the woman's expression shifted into a more thoughtful one; just like Hanamiya's while they were watching and analyzing matches. Surprisingly, she didn't look any worried.

-Seto-kun - her voice was low, and Seto almost struggled to hear it -, did Makoto perhaps hurt anybody else?

There was no turning back now.

-We actually did harm people. Specifically, our opponents, while playing against them. We did it because Makoto told us to. Some of them ended up with long-term injuries, and - he paused for a moment -, Makoto actually enjoyed seeing his opponents getting hurt.

It was undeniable that Seto had struggled internally while telling the woman about her son's actions. And that was just the tip of the iceberg; but, for Seto, what he'd just told her was more than enough. Now, it was up to Hanamiya -after he recalled his mother, of course- to actually tell her or not. And he would, since there wouldn't be more options left to him, no matter how much Hanamiya wanted to keep hiding that from her.

Suddenly, the woman found herself speechless. Not just because the Hanamiya she knew -that quiet, rather cheerful child who liked to spend hours at the town's local library, and who loved his parents more than anything else- had been hiding something from her, but because Hanamiya hadn't told her himself. It was a burden that Hanamiya had been carrying ever since middle school, when he first injured somebody. Each time his mother was around home, Hanamiya wouldn't know what to talk about for obvious reasons.

While there wasn't exactly a certain reason as why Hanamiya decided to take over not one, but _two_ basketball teams, his mother had thought about something.

-I - she sighed, and Seto lowered his shoulders in order to decrease his stress - probably left him alone for too long.

-Excuse me?

-It's kind of a long story, but, to put it into words, my husband suddenly left us when he was around 9 years old. Because of this, I had to work a lot in order to maintain us. And, as you might be thinking, I had to travel a lot, which obviously meant that I had to leave Makoto alone, or with our neighbours, sometimes even for an entire week. I don't even know if this would count as a reason, though, but sometimes Makoto acted on a distant way, as if he didn't want to talk at all.

Seto now joined his hands together, and raised his arms to place his chin above them afterwards. His deep, gray eyes were fixed on the woman's calm expression, almost as if he was analyzing it. For a moment, he'd thought that she might be disappointed with her son, no matter how much she cared about him. It was the most logical outcome. The one that would be disappointed the most, however, would be Hanamiya himself, once he found out about her and Seto's conversation. Not only he would be disappointed with Seto, but also with himself.

The woman's explanation seemed kind of logical to him, too. But, then again, it was Hanamiya himself the one that would have to confess the actual reason as why he'd done that. And Hanamiya didn't even know himself, though, but he'd always been really ambitious, always looking for any possible goals to fulfil. Harming and injuring his opponents was one of them, but, aside from them being "annoying" to him, Hanamiya couldn't possibly explain why he'd done that.

-I see - surprisingly, Seto had actually paid attention to her. - Is there anything else you might like to know?

-Nothing, actually - with a soft smile on her face, she stood up, and walked towards the house's hall. Seto quickly stood up after her, following her. - I think that was more than enough. However-

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring at the delicate vase with phlox placed on the counter, and crossed her arms. Her figure was as small as Seto could remember, and it was no different from Hanamiya's. The house's hall remained tidy, almost minimalistic-like, and it still brought that familiar, soothing feeling. Seto had noticed that frame with Hanamiya as soon as he'd entered that house, and it never failed to make him smile.

-However?

-I really would like Makoto to tell me himself - she turned her head as she spoke, with half-closed eyes and lowered eyebrows, and an innocent-like expression overall. Just like the one Hanamiya had shown during their graduation -, but I guess that we'll have to wait.

Seto felt like they wouldn't have to wait for too long.

···

That very same night, Hanamiya had a dream -which had been more like a _nightmare_ , actually-, which managed to wake him up at nearly 5AM. Rather than a dream, it had felt more like a flashback. At first, Hanamiya couldn't tell if it was just a dream, or something that had actually happened to him; however, after he took a breath, and managed to recall everything he'd seen in that dream, he finally remembered.

On a heartbeat, he recalled almost each single time in which he laughed at any opponents that were aiding their aces, after he and his team had injured them. Hanamiya recalled the way in which he looked at them, with a bloodthirst gaze and an icy, devilish grin, as the opposite team's ace was taken to the hospital. He recalled how nearly all of the spectators would complain about them and their playstyle, and how he just ignored them. He recalled how, instead of having fun like everybody else did, his main goal regarding basketball was to see the opposite team suffer as much as possible, and how he almost only trained his teammates in order to improve their skills towards rough play.

...And many things alike, but he mainly recalled how he'd almost devoted his entire basketball career to rough play.

Clicking his tongue, he grasped the bed's sheets, and found out one of the many reasons as why he hated summer that much. It was already hard for him to fall asleep during summer; and, after such a _dream_ , it would probably take him centuries until he fell asleep again. His long, silky-crow hair covered his face, and his hands felt sticky, due to all the sweat that came from them. The room itself was surrounded by a dim darkness; except that some small dashes of light that came from the window interrupted it. Yawning, he removed some hair from his face, grasping back the sheets afterwards, lowering his head at them.

Even though it was 5AM, he still felt sleepy, because of all the matches he'd played against Yamazaki and Hara before, as long as a long walk they'd shared afterwards. His entire body felt heavy; he could only manage slow movements, his eyes would close at any moment, and his mind was barely working at all, but none of this prevented him from whispering something.

- _What was I thinking back then?_

As those words escaped from his mouth, a yawn did as well, and, unlike most of the time, it didn't take him too long to fall asleep again. But not after not feeling slightly disappointed on himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Azalea - Patient/Modest  
> Erica - Solitude  
> (And the clovers, well... There weren't any four-leaf clovers there.)
> 
> As I've said before, the two next chapters are going to be really Hanamiya-focused, so his teammates won't show up until chapter 14 or so. They'll be mentioned, though.
> 
> (Hara's backstory is... 99% headcanons 1% canon references. Him being clingy to Yamazaki is also a headcanon... Well, you get it.)
> 
> PS: Tonki is a tonkatsu-only (I think?) restaurant in Meguro, which I really wanted to mention. I really want to visit it...
> 
> PS2: Did I mention that I've made this into a series? After the main fic is done, I'll just add small drabbles and snippets which took place during the fic's timeline.
> 
>  
> 
> **(Kudos and comments are really appreciated!)**


	12. 真 (Makoto)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto accidentally comes across a childhood album.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agh, I'm finally on break! It'll only last until the 29th, though. I also have two tiny requests to write. And I have to catch up with some stuff and study, so...
> 
> Alright. I kind of wanted to write this chapter from Hanamiya's point of view, but it sucked. So I just went with first names. Also, remember when I said that the last chapter was important? Well, this one is equally as important -no, this is the most important chapter of the fic. And a bad attempt at angst. Also, remember when I said that I'd planned this chapter? Well, it was hard to write. Really hard.
> 
> I have all these weird Hanamiya headcanons which you can see on this chapter (such as him not feeling loved at all, etc). There's also a bunch of references here, such as the sunflower field and a few 'Erased' references later on. And I don't know what else to say. There's a bit of foreshadowing, specially towards the ending of this chapter, which actually spoils the next one.
> 
> The KD boys are mentioned, but they don't show up until chapter 14. This chapter and the next one are completely Hanamiya focused. He's really fucking hard to write, though, so I went for some character analysis here. I hope this wasn't ooc.

"Many times had Jun been told that he wouldn't always get what he wanted; that, one day, reading would no longer be his comfort, and that writing would turn against him, to the point where burning his very own notebooks would become a habit. And, that, each time he looked at his novels, or at a single drabble, he'd be sickened at himself, and would wonder if writing had been the best choice."

It was a small extract from Makoto's second novel, "Risk". He couldn't stop staring at it, and he would read it over and over. Makoto knew that many people identified with his novels, but he'd never thought that he would ever identify with them himself. After all, those were his own novels. But he couldn't take his eyes off that specific paragraph.

It had begun about half an hour before. Having found himself fairly inspired to write, Makoto had opened Word in order to continue with his third novel. But, after he barely wrote two quotes, he stopped. Makoto didn't know how to continue. He knew that his new novel followed the main character -named Jun Hasegawa- as he regained his memories, which was a situation very similar to his at the moment, and that his childhood memories would be essential. But he didn't know where to start. That was one of Makoto's biggest problems when it came to writing, and not even his incredible intellect could help him.

In order to find a solution to this, Makoto had chosen to re-read his previous novels. And that was everything he'd been doing for the past two weeks. It took him an entire week to re-read "Wonder", the shortest one, and he was currently reading "Risk", the most recent of his novels, also known as "the logarithm novel". Which didn't exactly bother Makoto, but there was more to "Risk" that just a weird high school joke.

Re-reading those novels, while not being that useful regarding inspiration and motivation, helped Makoto recall tiny bits of both his childhood and adolescence, with the logarithm incident being one of them, aside from the first time his mother left him alone for longer than a week. He'd also recalled that Jun's character had been inspired on himself, something that was specially noticeable on "Risk". Sometimes it felt like that, rather than novels, those books were some kind of autobiography -that Jun also happened to be a writer _wasn't_ a coincidence-.

Aside from writing, the previous weeks had been full of visits from Makoto's friends, specially Kazuya and Kojiro. The latter one would sometimes take Makoto on long, slow walks near their old school, as well as some well-known places, as he told stories related to those places. And, even though Makoto was able to fully memorize them, he barely recalled any of them, specially school-related ones. Aside from the logarithm incident, and that terrible match against Seirin during his first year, in which Kiyoshi Teppei got injured, he was almost unable to recall anything.

-Whatever - Makoto sighed, stroking the book's pages, with his olive-green eyes cautiously following each of the words.

He carefully closed the book and stared at its cover. That four-leaf clover wasn't related to the novel itself, but Makoto had decided to use one after he'd found a tiny four-leaf clover at his home's garden. Meanwhile, he'd used a censored picture of himself in "Wonder", but censoring it had been useless since people eventually found out. Not that it had bothered Makoto, but even he felt like it hadn't been the best idea after all.

Makoto left the book on the room's desk and stood up. September had barely begun, but Makoto had noticed little-to-no changes on the weather: it was still as hellishly warm as it had been in August, and the tree's leaves still kept their warm, sick-green tones. Those leaves probably wouldn't turn orange until late October. And the light that made it through the window was more enough to light up that room, but it was that absurdly high temperature what annoyed Makoto on the first place. He'd done his best in order to ignore it, but he just couldn't. It was too much for him to bear.

But nothing could be worse than Makoto's first days at the hospital. It was no longer about summer's terrifying heat. It was about Makoto not being able to recall anything about himself and his surroundings for nearly a week; about him not knowing the reason as why he woke up lying on a stretcher, surrounded by nothing but machines and doctors and people he didn't recognize at all. Only after a full week had passed, Makoto had managed to recover, although slowly. However, he would probably be unable to forget that sickening feeling he got each time he looked around that room, and how surreal everything felt back then.

Makoto tried to get that feeling off his mind. It wasn't the moment to think about that. He was supposed to be reading that damn novel, or any other book, gathering ideas for his latest work. He _should_ be writing, and not wandering around his room as if it was his first time staying at that place. Or maybe he should just take another rest, or a nap, or go on a walk with any of his friends or his mother. He didn't know what to do. After high school had finished, and Makoto had made sure that his mother was alright with him not attending University, his days got reduced to writing and taking care of his home. Not that Makoto complained about it, but routine soon became boring and repetitive to him, to the point this began to affect his motivation to write.

Now Makoto sat on the border of his bed. While reading his former novels, he'd noticed how much he had improved over the last years. He wanted to think about those years, but little had he recalled about high school so far. Makoto knew about all those stories Kojiro had been telling him over the past weeks, and he clearly remembered them. However, he still didn't feel like those stories were real -except for the logarithm incident, and one in which Makoto accidentally corrected his Chemistry teacher-, and sometimes he even doubted about them being real.

On the other side, Makoto couldn't help but think about how busy August had been. Getting discharged from the hospital, and meeting his old senpai, Shoichi, shortly afterwards. Going back home -a place he still had to get used to-, learning about his mother, and, later, recalling Kentaro. Dreams that, rather than dreams, were flashbacks that were chasing him night after night. Writing once again, but having the worst time of his life while doing so. Visiting Setagaya with Kazuya and recalling him shortly afterwards, and getting to spend some time with both him and Kojiro. And playing basketball once again against Hiroshi and Kazuya. Those were some of the moments Makoto had been treasuring so far, and moments that had made him realize that people did actually care for him. It wasn't something which Makoto was used to, and it wasn't like he did care about them that much -unless it was his mother-, but thanks to them, Makoto had finally begun to understand how feeling loved was like.

That feeling wasn't exactly foreign to him, but it wasn't anything Makoto was used to. The mere thought of someone being thankful for his existence -no matter if it was any of his teammates, or his mother- was enough to leave him thinking. Makoto wasn't that smart when it came down to feelings, since he often chose to ignore them; and, each time he had to reply to some kind of display of affection -such as a hug-, he usually would stand frozen on his spot, not knowing what to do. To say that it was something awkward coming from him wasn't enough: even when it came from his mother, Makoto didn't know how to react. He would usually reply with a small, withdrawn smile that wasn't enough to thank her. It made Makoto feel disappointed with himself.

Now, why was Makoto suddenly thinking about all of that? He still hadn't recalled his mother at all; he'd seen some flashbacks, and the woman had sometimes told him short, endearing stories about his childhood, but -almost- nothing happened. Those stories were nice to listen to, though. However, that wasn't what Makoto was supposed to focus on. He was supposed to be writing his third novel, or helping out at home; just doing something productive. Or just having a quiet time, lying on his bed while enjoying a good novel, or one of his. It was hard to choose.

For now, Makoto just stood up once again. His olive eyes immediately turned to the shelves, where he found two bulky books that stood up between the other ones. Those books -which were actually photo albums- weren't any bigger than the rest. However, what had caught Makoto's attention on the first place were those albums' covers: they both possessed a light-blue cover which stood out among the other books' dark ones. Makoto looked at them with a small glimpse of curiosity on his eyes. He wanted to pick one of them, or both, and just spend the rest of the day seeing it with his mother.

But Makoto wouldn't restrain himself to just writing and reading. True was that it was a good idea; and a relaxing one, but it was the very same routine Makoto had been following ever since his writing career began. Sometimes he would go shopping, only to end up cornered by a group of journalists that just wanted to dig in his personal life. His mother sometimes joked about him following weird paths in order to buy something, but it really was no joke at all; Makoto had to avoid those people if he wanted to come back home before the sky turned pitch-black and he began to regret going outside home.

It was there when Makoto recalled that his mother had gone on a walk with some of her friends -she had left a post-it at Makoto's room little before he woke up, which happened to be nearly 10AM-, so the man would have to take care of their home until she came back. Since Makoto wouldn't know where to begin, the woman had left some small post-its at the kitchen and the living room so he could guide himself. Makoto had helped her before, but only with meals, plus lately he'd began to clean his room. The man hadn't cleaned the entire house for nearly years -it had been almost 6 years since the last time his mother left him alone at home because of business-, so it would obviously take more time than expected to finish.

He began by stepping out of his room. He was tired and his legs felt heavy, all of this followed by a sudden headache which only made walking downstairs worse. It was annoying, yes, but Makoto felt the sudden need to do something rather than just locking himself in his room. He thought about taking care of their garden, even if it was just watering the plants; he wanted to breathe some fresh air. Makoto then headed towards the kitchen, not without stretching first in order to resist the urge to go back to bed.

Sticked on the fridge's surface, Makoto saw a small group of post-its with things written on them. He removed some hair from his face, and, fixing his eyes in the first of them, he began to read.

"There's rice and some natto if you haven't had breakfast yet."

"And don't worry about lunch! I'll be back as soon as I can."

"By the way, if you're going to write at some point, make sure to take short breaks each 20 minutes. Furuhashi-kun told me that you keep forcing yourself to write, and that's bad.

-Mom."

It made Makoto smile. This time, however, it wasn't any of those mildly embarrassed smiles that he would often show to hide his shame, nor was it a grin. It was a genuine smile; the kind of smile Makoto had only shown once, during his high school graduation, and that his teammates had thought that didn't exist. At the same time, he felt a sudden warm traveling across his whole body, as if something -or somebody- had comforted him. That feeling was followed by half-closed eyes and a soft expression, which were hard to believe coming from someone like him. It was as if Makoto had suddenly gone back to his childhood days, where the only thing he cared about was about that Chemistry set his parents had just bought for him.

Prior to the accident, it had been hard for him to believe that there were people that did care for him, his mother being one of them. This had begun right after the entire rough play issue started, and Makoto -and his team- began to injure their opponents; Makoto acted as if people's opinions on him didn't matter at all, which was partially true. He just happened to be a bored genius that satisfied said boredom by unconventional ways.

But, deep inside, he felt a slight degree of remorse. He felt like -and knew- that he would end up regretting each one of those injuries and all those times he made his opponents cry in the middle of the match. It first happened back then when he was 21 years old; and it was happening once again, in this very moment. Makoto didn't know how to describe it, nor he knew how to describe that previous feeling. It was unlike anything he'd ever written before: because of that feeling being -almost- new to him, there was no way in which he could describe it.

Aside from that, Makoto soon found out that his former teammates -Kazuya, Hiroshi, Kentaro and Kojiro, even though he still hadn't recalled him- loved him and appreciated both him and his existence, was he an asshole or not. They were friends, after all, even if Makoto couldn't remember where or when he'd met them. He also found out that his mother, that woman he still couldn't recall, loved him more than anything. It wasn't just the fact that she'd left some post-its throughout the house in order for Makoto to guide himself. It was about the way she acted towards Makoto; that delicate voice she used when she spoke to him, the way she held his hand at the hospital whether the man began to feel anxious, and each time she told him to take short breaks after writing for too long, along many other things.

Makoto loved them too.

···

When Makoto came back from shopping at the nearest store, the skies had turned orange, with little-to-no clouds, and the sun was slowly hiding behind a group of faraway buildings, almost turning them into silhouettes. Such a beautiful scenery, that he had to stop a moment and quietly stare at it. Said scenery reminded him of a time during high school in which he had to interrupt practice in order to buy food and goods, since his mother had left him alone for nearly a week because of business. But Makoto couldn't figure out the reason as why he'd seen himself buying food.

As he walked towards home, he felt the soft embrace of summer -or, at least, what was left of it- around his whole body. Makoto wasn't one to pay attention to those things. In fact, Makoto -his old self, concretely- would often ignore them, claiming that it was some "nonsensical bullshit from a poor romance film". But now that Makoto had grown up, and slowly began to appreciate those small details in life, it made him feel at ease. The thought of a mother holding her child's hand in the middle of a sunflower field also came to his mind, but only for a split second, so Makoto almost couldn't pay any attention to it.

After Makoto made it home, his mother received him with a short, yet heartwarming hug, and a small kiss on his cheek, which almost made him skip a heartbeat. Makoto was usually the one that would hug her, but his hugs weren't as warm or tight as hers: he didn't even like physical contact on the first place, unless it came from a beloved one. At first, Makoto felt like it was a tad exaggerated. But, little after he left the bags in the kitchen and headed towards his room, he began to miss the way his mother caressed his back, and how she had slightly buried her head in Makoto's shoulder.

Makoto sighed as he walked upstairs. He still missed that feeling. The feeling of being loved.

···

Makoto's interest on those photo albums had only grown throughout the entire day. The skies remained orange, just like before, and the sun was nowhere to be found. Many pale-coloured clouds had spread over the sky in the span of a minute, and the sky would slowly turn darker, until night fell upon the city of Meguro. Only the soft howl of the wind could be heard, along some cicadas that would be gone once fall began. There was no need for Makoto to turn on the lights, as enough light came from the window for him to be able to read.

One of those photo albums, which had "1992-2001" written on its cover, laid in front of him, placed on the desk. Makoto sat before it, looking at said book with tired eyes, and his back was adjusted to the chair's back. His fingers, placed on that book, were interlaced, and he couldn't figure out if he was looking at the album, his fingers, or both of them. For a dull moment, he got distracted by the way the sky's lights had dyed the room with pale, orange tones, and yellow highlights. Not only he thought it was beautiful, but it also made him feel at ease. It was just like one of those evenings in which he and his parents would share long walks throughout their neighbourhood.

He opened the book. The first page, of a pale-cream tone, seemed blank, except for a small text written on it, which instantly caught Makoto's attention.

"Dedicated to Makoto, and my dear Aiko."

Makoto almost immediately recognized that handwriting. It was his father's. He nearly froze on the spot right there, and could barely bring himself to turn the page. Memories of his father came back like a flood; they bloomed just like flowers in a garden. Except that one of them, one that Makoto still couldn't reach, was a rotten one. When those memories stopped blooming, Makoto brought his left hand to his chin and sighed. It had happened all of the sudden, too quick for the man to control it, so Makoto could only retain few of those memories.

He turned the page. What he saw now did not only surprise him, but also brought a relaxed expression to his face, along the softest of smiles. One would have thought that Makoto wasn't being himself at the moment, but there was a side of him that little people knew about.

Makoto gazed at those pages with child-like features, his eyes fixed on those photos. It was impossible for him to not recognize himself. Those photos showed him as a child -as a baby. Only one of them was from 1992; the rest were mostly from 1994, when Makoto was around 2 years old, and those photos spread across the next pages. One of those photos showed his 1-year old self -the very first picture they took of him- being held by his mother, with the woman's face slightly pressed against the baby's cheek: the woman showed the kindest of expressions, while the baby looked half-asleep. Another picture -which belonged to the next page- showed his 2-year old self holding a solved Rubik's Cube, with his father holding him at the same time, showing a wide, familiar grin.

Of course, Makoto didn't remember any of that. But there was something about those pictures that made him both happy and melancholic at the same time, as if he suddenly wanted to revive part of his childhood. As if he wanted to meet his father again.

He lowered his eyebrows, with that very same child-like smile on his face, and turned the page once again. The next few pages were filled with pictures alike, of both Makoto and his parents. For some reason, a shiver ran down his spine as he looked at each one of them; suddenly memories from nearly 20 years ago began showing up. They were small, like those tiny, faraway stars that would show in the sky at night. But they were also powerful: enough to make Makoto completely focus in the album in front of him.

Some pages later, Makoto saw a picture he almost recognized instantly. Said picture, which had been taken back then in 1998 -when Makoto was about 6 years old-, showed said boy solving a fairly complex equation, which some people from high school couldn't solve at all. One of his classmates' relatives, after being told about Makoto being "the smartest of class", had decided to challenge him. And not only did Makoto solve that equation: he'd also explained how to solve it to both his classmates and that boy. Right after his parents had learned about this, they also found out about their son's astonishing intellect. It was right there when the high expectations had begun; when two parents would discuss about which kind of future their son would follow.

Makoto could perfectly recall the way his parents spoke about his future. The way his father would encourage him to go to some of the best elementary, middle and high schools, and how his mother told him to follow his own pace. They've never had any strong argument regarding this, since they never wanted to put any pressure on him. However, Makoto's parents weren't the ones that put pressure on him; instead, his classmates and teachers were the ones that would constantly speak about how he would sucess at anything. Of course, Makoto soon got tired of all the praise; being constantly praised by his parents had been more than enough. The mere thought of people thinking about him as "that small genius" was enough to piss him off, even though Makoto was barely 6 years old at the time.

The man snapped out of his mind and kept turning pages. He noticed that it was a fairly short album, no matter how bulky it had looked on the first place. Some of the pictures he'd seen had brought back a bunch of memories, both big and small ones, and they had placed the softest of smiles on Makoto's face. It was as if he'd gone back to his childhood.

On the 14th page, which contained pictures that had been taken between 1999 and 2001, there was another picture which Makoto recognized almost immediately. His eyes shifted towards that picture, and for a brief moment, it was hard for him to believe that the child right there, in front of his eyes, had been him years ago. He squinted his eyes before it, as the light that came from the window slowly vanished and the sky turned purple, with the Moon itself and shiny stars revealing themselves. Sadly, Makoto was too focused on that light-blue album to pay any attention to the scenery outside home. Meanwhile, his mother had been wondering why he wasn't making any noise at all -Makoto had accidentally left his room's door open-; she thought that Makoto was taking a nap, so she didn't want to wake him up. But she was wrong.

Makoto slowly caressed that picture, as if it was something precious to him. There was something about that picture which strongly resonated to him. The picture, which his mother had took in 2000, showed his 8-year old self asleep, after he'd been reading a book -gifted by his mother- for nearly two hours. He had such a delicate face that it was almost unbelievable, and the way he held that book, placed on his small legs, which were spread across the bed, hadn't changed at all. That angel-like face he showed hadn't changed either.

He stared at that picture with a small degree of melancholy on his eyes, as if he wanted to go back in time and revive those times. Makoto had to confess that he missed those days, in which the only thing he had to worry about was that science book he wanted his parents to get him, and all of those complex equations he wanted to solve. Those days in which he didn't have to worry about his mother leaving him alone for more than one day, or those journalists that would chase him throughout the street.

Makoto felt weak for a second. He kept turning the album's pages, and, for some reason, looking at those pictures made him feel guiltier than before. Nobody had told him before that his 8-year old self, that small child with bushy eyebrows and angelic features would change that much after four years. That reading would no longer be enough to fill the gap inside him, and that he would turn to violent, darker methods in order to fulfil his goals. That, being one of the most innocent children to ever exist, he would slowly become a bored genius with an unsatisfied appetite for destruction; something that a younger Makoto would had never expected to happen to him. Currently, writing was one of Makoto's favorite activities: it was more than enough to fill his void, and he enjoyed it. Back then, however, it had been harming players that hadn't done anything wrong.

The man took yet another deep breath and removed some hair which slightly blocked his sight from his face. He had the sudden urge to go back to the very beginning of that album, and look at each picture once again, this time paying attention to small details. Rather than curiosity, Makoto was being driven by his heart: he wanted to bring back his childhood memories, no matter how distant they were. His fingertips gently turned cold as he rushed to the album's first page, albeit carefully, since he didn't want to cut any of the pages. Makoto felt his heart pounding against his chest as he stared at those pictures of him as a fairly young child, as well as a small lump in his throat as memories kept blooming. He withdrew his left hand from his chin and placed it on a folder which kept some of his unfinished projects, his fingertips slowly touching its surface, and his eyes suddenly swifted to the hydrangea vase placed behind the folder. Unable to figure out what was that feeling, Makoto's eyes drifted back to the album.

This time, he didn't rush through each one of the pages and stopped at pictures he could recognize like he'd done before. Makoto wanted to take his time, since closing the album right there would've been a waste of time, and a mistake. He stared down at that page again, reading the message over and over, until he finally saw a small signature near the page's corner. It was his father's signature. Makoto could clearly recognize it; however, he couldn't recall whoses signature it was. A man older than him stood in front of Makoto: his eyes were blurried, and he showed a faint smile that made him skip a heartbeat. Makoto would break down at any moment. But, of course, he would endure it, until his feelings became stronger than he could bear and he finally broke down in front of that album. It had always been like that. They had never changed: the ways Makoto would hide his weaker self in order for people to take him seriously, and to fear him.

The first few pages -1992 to 1994- didn't really affect him, but it was still hard for Makoto to believe that the child in front of him had been him.

Pictures from 1995 to 1997, in which most of those pictures depicted him with his parents. Nothing fairly interesting. That was what Makoto had thought, until he came across a certain picture. It was his 5-year old self, asleep on his mother's shoulder after having read a book. The woman was looking at him with a small, kind smile, which reminded Makoto of a certain woman that had been taking care of him for nearly a month. They resembled each other, and Makoto began to suspect once again. That question had never left his mind.

" _Is she my mother?_ "

Each time Makoto looked at those pictures, the blurriness on his mind vanished a little more. He recalled meeting a boy at a park nearly 20 years ago, when he was 5 years old. They didn't speak that much -Makoto became a bit annoyed by that boy-, so Makoto ignored him. His mother really wanted him to make friends, but Makoto nearly chose books before people, even from such a young age.

He kept turning page by page, blankly staring at those pictures, still unable to figure out why he felt so guilty by just looking at them. Perhaps it was because he missed those times in which he almost didn't have to worry about anything; times in which he just wanted to read complex science books which were aimed at high-school students, often out of curiosity. In that case, it would be melancholy rather than guilt. It would just be Makoto missing certain things from his childhood.

The lump in his throad gradually became stronger, to the point Makoto felt the sudden need to cry. His fingertips got colder, and the smallest of tears formed on the corners of his eyes. Makoto ignored it. He didn't want to feel weak, but it was almost unavoidable at this point. His hands began to tremble, and biting down his lip, Makoto tried to hold back those tears, while trying to rearrange his thoughts. He'd never written anything like that before. He'd written some breakdowns before, but nothing like that. Of course, describing feelings and facing them yourself was different, and Makoto didn't recall feeling like that before.

When he made it to the 14th page again, it was when Makoto found himself unable to hold those feelings anymore. Frowning, he looked at each of those pictures as if he wanted to bring his childhood back. And he wanted to. He tried to take another deep breath, but it was useless. It got interrupted by loud, agitated breathing, along a lump in his throat that just wouldn't go away, and thoughts that resulted in a headache that made it harder to think, mixed with childhood memories that had just finished blooming. No, Makoto hadn't rushed between the pages at any moment: he'd followed a fairly small pace while browsing throughout all those pictures. But now that he'd reached the 14th page once again -pictures that had been taken between 1999 and 2001-, he found himself almost frozen on the spot, unable to turn the page.

Makoto forced himself to turn the page. And, when he did, the first tear fell.

The very first picture depicted his parents together, with them holding hands and smiling, and cherry blossoms behind them. Makoto had been the one that took that picture. It looked simple at first sight, but it wasn't for Makoto, who had just recalled his parent's divorce, and his father as well. Makoto could perfectly recall the day in which his father decided to leave them. It wasn't anything tragic, nor he and his mother had an argument over it. But it made Makoto feel bad. He was nearly 9 years old back then, and he'd overheard his parents talking from his room. Compared to some of the discussions they'd had before -specially when it came down to Makoto's studies-, it had been a really quiet one. But it didn't mean that it had ended up well, specially after his father's last words.

"I know that both you and Makoto will be happier like this."

At first, Makoto didn't know what he'd meant by that. But he knew that there was something going on, and it was something bad. It wasn't like any discussion they'd had before, when they would often ignore each other for a few days after a big argument, and leave Makoto wondering if he'd done something wrong. And, no matter how many times Makoto asked if there was something wrong: the only response he would get was that his parents had issues too. Makoto never understood that; he'd always thought that his parents loved each other, so he'd never found out the reason as why they discussed that much.

It all got worse the day next to their divorce. With his mother trying to look for a new job in order to take care of herself and Makoto, the boy felt guilty about what had happened, as if it had been his fault. For a moment, he'd wished that he hadn't been born with such a high intelligence, as he'd once believed that it was the reason as why his parents had divorced on the first place. No matter how many times his mother had told him that it wasn't, and that they had divorced because they weren't as close as they were before any more; Makoto still thought that it had been his fault.

Tears kept falling, with Makoto being unable to stop them. The guilt increased as each second passed, and every memory that had bloomed before suddenly vanished from his shaken mind. Now it all seemed more peaceful, with the exception that there was an ongoing conflict on Makoto's mind: something which he'd never experienced before. He didn't know how he was supposed to deal with it: it was a mix of anger, of guilt, and a never-ending melancholy that would probably last for a few hours. Anger, because of Makoto suddenly being angry at himself, unable to figure out why. Guilt, because of how much he'd changed ever since his parent's divorce, even though his change didn't have anything to do with that. And melancholy, because Makoto truly wanted his parents to get together once again; but he didn't know where his father was, and, even if he knew, he doubted whether he could do anything. All those feelings fought against each other while Makoto slowly lost control of himself in front of an album that had been able to bring back the fondest of memories, and the strongest ones.

With both of his hands trembling, Makoto quickly closed the book, and it made a sound that faintly resonated throughout the entire room. He brought one of his hands to his forehead, firmly pressing his frozen fingers against it, while he clenched the other one. Holding back his tears was useless now, as there were many of them streaming down his face, and gracefully falling and colliding with the album, the table, and his t-shirt. Makoto tried to take a deep breath: he wanted to calm himself down, but he just couldn't. Even trying to speak was useless, and no matter how much he tried to formulate the smallest of words: only sobs came from his mouth, with Makoto being able to taste any single tear that touched his lips. Sob after sob, his heartbeats increased gradually, and his sobbing could even be heard from the living room, albeit faintly. Makoto didn't want his mother, that woman he still hadn't recalled, to hear him. He didn't want her to walk upstairs, into his room, and find him at such a moment of his life. Initially, he thought about that as something unavoidable.

She did find out about this, but she didn't want to put even more pressure on her son. Just like Makoto had done his best in order to not put any pressure on her while she was overworking herself, she wouldn't disturb her son during a breakdown. Stepping towards her son's room, she stopped right next to the door, not willing to open and enter and trouble her son more than he already was. It didn't took her too long to find out the reason as why Makoto was suddenly crying.

Makoto eventually managed to formulate some words. As he took a deep breath, interrupted by small sobs and strong heartbeats, he tightened his fist, digging his nails in his skin. Physical damage wouldn't help Makoto get rid of his mental pain, though. He would simply have to endure it, until tears stopped falling and his touch became warm again, the pain on his chest vanished, and Makoto found himself relieved, all at once. Everything Makoto saw in front of his eyes was that desk, which had belonged to him for his entire life, multiple novels and unfinished projects. His eyes, fixed on that desk, seemed empty, filled with tears, and Makoto was unable to remove them from that place. It was then when he formulated those words, which came out of nowhere.

-So... - he sobbed, as tears streamed down his face, loud enough for his mother to hear him from behind the door. Once again, he saw his younger self, with that angelic smile which only made Makoto's guilt increase. - That's how things used to be, huh?

The sobs didn't seem to decrease, just like Makoto's guilt, and his mother felt disappointed with herself, as she couldn't do anything to help him.

···

Eventually, night fell upon the city of Meguro. The brightest of moons reigned upon the darkened sky, along tiny stars that weren't bright enough for anyone to notice them. Little before going to bed, Makoto sat near the garden in order to calm himself down, quietly reading Kyung-sook Shin's ' _Please Look After Mom_ '. His hands still trembled somewhat, and he had a headache that made it slightly hard to focus on the novel, but Makoto managed to read it anyway. Meanwhile, his mother watched him from the kotatsu of the living room, with that tender smile that was usually seen on her face.

Two months ago, her son had just woken up from a one-week coma, unable to remember her or any of his friends. She'd visited Makoto at evening, after Kojiro had told her the news. The last week had probably been the longest one to her, even worse than those past days in which she had to leave Makoto alone for days, even weeks, because of business. The few times she'd visited Makoto during his comatose state, she had just stayed a couple of minutes besides him, holding his hand, and wishing that he would wake up, with minuscule tears forming on her eyes, and the thought of her son not waking up at all chasing her all along.

With Makoto barely noticing at all, she gently ran her hand across his hair, glad that her son was there.

···

It was usually the woman the one that went to bed first, but, because of his headache, Makoto decided to go to sleep at a fairly early hour -10PM-, hoping it would help him relax, and that he could sleep at all. His mother had made him some tea before, and wished him sweet dreams. She wouldn't go to sleep too late, though, as she wanted to have a well-deserved rest too.

Little did she know that, before going to sleep, she would end up in her son's room. It was pitch-dark, with only a dim light weakly iluminating the room, which made it possible for her to get through and place herself next to her son's bed, where Makoto slept. The room was incredibly silent, to the point it was possible to hear Makoto's soft breaths as he slept. It was also possible to hear some people from the outside, which were most likely to be adults, and the faint sound of an owl's hooting in the distance. It drew a smile on her face. But Makoto wasn't exacty asleep: he was half-asleep, and had barely heard the sound of his mother's steps as she walked inside his room.

The woman turned on the night-light. Another thing which Makoto didn't exactly like: things which he didn't see coming. He was all curled-up in the bed, as if in a fetal position, with a thin blanket covering his entire body but his face, since he wanted to breathe some fresh air. His mother couldn't see his face, though, as he faced the wall in front of him. Makoto had been sleeping on that position since he'd began elementary school: not only it was really comfortable, but it also was warm, which was everything Makoto wanted regarding sleep. The woman wouldn't like to wake him up at all. She didn't know yet.

Carefully sitting on the bed, making sure her body didn't collide with Makoto's, the woman smiled. It was just like during Makoto's childhood, when she would often step into his room and read him short stories and books until he fell asleep. Of course, it was different now, since Makoto had grown up quite a lot and she had assumed that he didn't like having his mother read him books at night. But Makoto didn't dislike it. He'd actually missed it, specially during those days in which his mother left him alone and Makoto had to stay all alone at home. She, too, missed those days. So she'd decided to bring them back, at least once.

For a split second, she turned to her son, and found the way the blanket raised and withdrew itself after each breath endearing, if not relaxing. Some cicadas could be heard from the distance. Summer hadn't finished yet, and, looking back, Makoto had made lots of progress ever since he got discharged from the hospital. Yet, there were many memories still buried: such as high school, the basketball team, middle school, Kojiro, his mother, and many else. Makoto had recalled some fragments from his childhood a few hours before, as well as his father, and it had took quite an emotional toll on him. The woman could still hear those small sobs that came from his room, and regretted not having stepped inside and helped Makoto calm down.

She slowly caressed Makoto's back. The man noticed that touch, and had to admit that he liked its warmness, as well as how delicated it was. Shortly afterwards, the woman spoke.

-Makoto - her voice was soft, and the half-asleep Makoto could hear it clearly -, remember when you were younger and you couldn't sleep, and I had to read to you until you fell asleep?

Makoto nodded, and the woman knew because of the sound the blanket made as he nodded. He could remember -at least, a tiny bit of it-, and he wouldn't mind if his mother picked a book right now and read it to him, to help him fall asleep. The breaths remained as silent and gentle as they were before, and the woman kept that tender smile, withdrawing her hand from Makoto's back and placing both of her hands on her lap.

-You probably don't know, but, you've always loved me more than you loved dad. And I know that you had your own reasons, but it just seemed curious to me.

"That's because dad was almost never home", Makoto thought to himself, yawning.

The woman now turned her face to the window, and her smile slowly faded. She wanted to bring up the whole divorce topic, and wanted to reassure Makoto, explaining to him that it hadn't been his fault at all. But, at the same time, she was afraid that it would make Makoto feel bad once again, and that he would cry again. She joined her hands together and forgot about that, lowering her gaze.

After a short silence, she spoke once again, with a lower voice than before.

-...Perhaps you know this already, but, mom is really proud of you.

Makoto had seen that coming.

-And I'm aware that you've done bad things - this made Makoto almost skip a heartbeat. - Maybe you don't remember right now, but if you do, then, you don't have to blame yourself over it. If you regret those actions, that's more than enough -no, that's great. Because it means that you've learned from your mistakes.

Makoto hadn't seen that coming.

It reminded Makoto of that dream he had weeks ago. He'd never truly regretted rough play; he'd felt disappointed with himself back then, and four years ago, when he turned 20, but he hadn't really regretted injuring all those people. It had helped him fill the void inside his mind and slightly overcome his boredom, and he'd gotten rid of some annoying players.

But it wasn't until that moment when he truly began regretting what he'd done back then, rather than being disappointed with himself. Makoto didn't know that, weeks ago, his mother had learned about what had happened during high school, but her words just now had made him suspect -and, soon, he learned that yes, his mother knew about _it_. While it didn't surprise him, deep inside, Makoto was now afraid that the woman was disappointed on him. He'd been hiding that certain thing from her for more than 10 years, to not put any pressure on his already strained mother, and now he didn't know how to feel towards himself.

-I want you to know that I'm not that disappointed on you... I am disappointed, of course, but keep in mind that it happened a long time ago. There's no reason as why I should blame or scold you.

Makoto dragged the blanket toward himself, to the point only his nose and eyes were visible. His whole body was now covered by that light-blue blanket, still on that fetal position, almost like a cocoon, trying to fall asleep. His mother's words, however, managed to keep him awake; she'd been aiming for the opposite effect.

"You said that you were disappointed."

Noticing that the room's atmosphere had turned kind of downhearted, the woman suddenly changed the topic. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to do, but, in case Makoto wasn't asleep -which he wasn't-, she didn't want to disturb him. Makoto didn't feel like the woman was disturbing him, either, as he'd been wanting to hear those words from her.

After another dull silence, she spoke.

-...I don't know what got into you, Makoto, but, you've always slept on that position. Always turned towards the wall, with your whole body covered by blankets, as if you wanted to feel safe. Not only that, but - she stood up -, you've always held my hand whether we went out for a walk together. You've always tried to come off as a cold person, but I know that you just wanted to feel at ease with yourself. This may just be me, but, perhaps that's the reason as why you did all those things. To fill some kind of void in your heart, and to feel _better_ with yourself.

Sadly, Makoto wasn't paying enough attention to her. But her words had left him thinking, although his brain and body were in the process of falling asleep and it forbade him from thinking properly.

That woman knew Makoto much better than he knew himself. But Makoto hadn't recalled just yet -he was fairly close, though.

She leaned towards the night-light and turned it off, heading towards the room's door afterwards. The room was now pitch-black again, with the exception of some dim light-orange lights that came from the outside, and that iluminated the room in such a way the woman was able to find her way outside. But, before she stepped outside, she turned to her son once again, in order to pronnounce her last words before going to bed.

-I'll be going to bed now, Makoto. And please, keep in mind that mom loves you, no matter how many mistakes you've made, okay?

It drew a small smile on Makoto's face. Little after she'd stepped outside the room, the woman carefully closed the door. Now Makoto could sleep -at least, try to. His eyelids felt heavy, as well as his hands, and the grip he'd gotten of the sheets once he went to bed had weakened. He still looked like a cocoon, positioned like that. But, more importantly, Makoto had felt loved once again. It hadn't felt strange this time; instead, it had made him feel at ease with himself, with a warm feeling blooming inside him, telling him that he would be safe.

Gently closing his eyes, Makoto thought to himself.

"Thanks, _mom_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .i ) "Please Look After Mom" is a novel by South-Korean author Kyung-sook Shin, which tells the story about a woman that's separated from her husband. As her family starts looking for her, they wonder if they'd actually known her that well. The novel not only revolves around the family's self-discovery becaue of the woman's disappearance, but it also explores the self-sacrifice of mothers, and how memories of the past and the present itself are related.
> 
> .ii ) I hope that angst-ish portion actually sounded angsty. I'm seriously bad at angst. But I love angst. I hope it wasn't too forced.
> 
> .iii ) Hanamiya's mom is a bit inspired by Sachiko Fujinuma from Erased. I'd recommend that manga a lot (the anime version is alright too, but it gets really rushed towards episode 8).
> 
> .iv ) Makoto's sleeping position was inspired by a headcanon by the wonderful mwavefield, so kudos to them! (The chemistry set one also belongs to them, so double kudos!) His childhood, as well as his novels, were my entire ideas. The 'sunflower field' thought comes from a certain part of "Mother 3". Which is a huge spoiler.
> 
> .v ) I'll be participating in Erased Week, by the way.


	13. 母 (Mother)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya gets over it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update before school starts kicking in again! I have a few exams during April (plus there's lots of spring anime which I'd love to watch, but that doesn't really matter), so I can't promise an early update.
> 
> Also, I've had yet another idea for yet another KiriDaii fic, but I don't promise anything. Maybe I'll write it at some point during summer, after I'm done with FT, and I'll never upload it. Who knows. Maybe I'll just stick to prompts and ask memes.

Kirisaki Daiichi's facilities were mostly known from being fairly big and jaw-dropping; something you'd expect coming from one of Japan's best schools. Its library, often said to be much better than Meguro's public library, was one of Kirisaki Daiichi's biggest instalations, even bigger than its gymnasium. Many people loved that library, not only because of its vast amount of books, but because of its quiet atmosphere as well, in which they could easily focus on their duties, was it studying, writing, or reading.

Hanamiya Makoto seemed to be an exception to this. Not only he did like reading, but he also found that library to be a quiet place, in which he could stay away from every rich, annoying individual found at that school. That library wasn't devoid of annoying people, though, except that they didn't talk that much. And Hanamiya appreciated that. A lot. Just like home, it was one of the few places in which he could focus when reading or writing. It was as silent as a library could be, with antique-looking shelves and lots of books for Hanamiya to read, as well as a nice, quiet atmosphere that made it easier for him to focus.

Hanamiya didn't just like that library because of its atmosphere and it being a quiet place. There was a certain individual which he'd met during his first year; they happened to be classmates, and that person not only was in the Library Committee, but he played in Kirisaki Daiichi's basketball team as well, plus sometimes he and Hanamiya would walk home together after practice. They were as close as friends could be, and Hanamiya didn't only like him because of the way he followed him and his orders regarding basketball.

As clueless as he could be, Furuhashi Kojiro was a reliable friend as well.

-Five days? - He tilted his head and placed his left hand on his cheek, fixing his dead gaze on the smaller boy, who had broken eye contact little ago. - Is your mother really that busy?

-She used to be busier back then - Hanamiya tapped his fingers on his notebook, waiting for inspiration to embrace him. - And stressed. Really stressed.

-Stressed?

Hanamiya lowered his head. Telling Furuhashi about it wasn't perhaps the best idea, but at least he wouldn't have to keep it for himself any longer. Not that Hanamiya liked what he was about to mention: it was something he'd kept to himself for nearly 10 years, and now, during his third and last year of high school, he would finally tell someone about it.

On the other side, Furuhashi knew about Hanamiya's mother, and how she was almost sacrificing herself for her son's wellbeing. He knew about all those long business trips, and about all those nights and days Hanamiya had to spend alone, taking care of himself and his team as well. Furuhashi thought about Hanamiya's mother as a strong woman that loved her son the most; and Hanamiya loved her as well, but there was more to her than Furuhashi knew.

-You think about mom as this goody-two-shoes, strong-willed woman, right? - Hanamiya felt bad about that comment, and stopped tapping his fingers. It awoke Furuhashi's curiosity. - She is. But, at the same time, she isn't.

-Would you explain, if you please?

Hanamiya raised his head at him, looking away from the notebook, and his smirk faded, his expresion turning into a serious one that wasn't usually seen on him. And, for a moment, Furuhashi regretted having asked him. He didn't like the look on Hanamiya's eyes, nor the way his expression had shifted from his usual sarcastic one to a serious one.

And Hanamiya would have denied his petititon if they didn't get along. Fixing his cold gaze on Furuhashi's, he half-smirked, it being unable to hide his regret.

-Mom hasn't always been that patient, y'know. Back in the day, when she'd just began working, I felt like she couldn't handle that shit. And, sometimes, the stress became so strong that - he snorted, feeling the smallest of lumps in his throat - she took out all her anger on me.

Furuhashi remained as quiet as he could. Luckily, there wasn't anybody at the library but them, so Hanamiya didn't have to whisper at him. His voice had turned kind of cold towards the end, and Furuhashi was slightly concerned by his sudden behavior. Unsure on how to react towards those words, he just lowered his head, hoping Hanamiya didn't explain anything else regarding that.

And, to say the truth, Hanamiya didn't even want to talk about it on the first place. It hadn't took him too long to regret his decision, and to recall those times in which his mother had yelled at him, and even hurt him at times, because she couldn't bear with all of her stress. Back then, 9-year old Hanamiya had thought that he'd done something for her to behave like that. Of course, his mother ended up apologizing at him, after she noticed what she'd been doing to her son. This didn't stop her from becoming even more stressed after each day of work, nor from being somewhat strict towards Hanamiya.

While Furuhashi thought that Hanamiya's explanation had been somewhat cliché and exaggerated, he couldn't help but feel bad towards him. Up to a point.

-Hanamiya - Furuhashi lowered his head, joining his hands together and playing with his thumbs to distract himself -, you're doing good now, right?

-Right - he clicked his tongue. - But it wasn't as severe as you think. It only lasted for a week, and mom hasn't slapped me ever since.

Nodding at him, Furuhashi was amazed at how easy it had been for Hanamiya to tell him that part of his childhood. He hadn't stopped midway throughout his speech, nor he'd stuttered at any moment, and his fingers hadn't trembled the slightest as he spoke. One may have thought that Hanamiya's feelings were the same as a fridge, and that, because of the way he'd spoken like, he'd forgotten about that incident long ago. But, just like a certain event from his childhood, it was something which Hanamiya couldn't forget.

And it had been one of the few secrets which Hanamiya would tell Furuhashi about himself.

Now, if Furuhashi ever had to describe Hanamiya, instead of just going on and on about how interesting he was, he would just describe him as someone cold. It was hard to properly describe him at all, since Hanamiya's personality slightly changed concerning in which place he was, or who he was with. At school, he often came off as an introvert, but he got along with Furuhashi, the other boys, and some of his classmates, and was seen as a genius. Basketball, however, was where his hidden self would show up, and where Hanamiya would become the infamous "Bad Boy". And home, where his sadistic self would suddenly vanish and he would become the kindest of sons, still behaving somewhat distant.

That's why Furuhashi described him as someone cold. Of course, there were more reasons to this, but Furuhashi wasn't someone that liked to talk. He also liked to describe Hanamiya as someone interesting, since he rarely ever spoke about himself. The few times Hanamiya had ever shared something personal had been when Furuhashi asked him to, or when he had the need to explain things about himself. Not that Hanamiya liked talking about himself. He didn't like hearing about other people's lives too, unless they mentioned any of their weaknesses, since Hanamiya could take advantage of them. And not only this, but, to him, Hanamiya was an interesting individual over all; it wasn't just the way he spoke, but also the way in which he behaved, and many things alike.

The ways the other boys described Hanamiya weren't exactly smart, nor intriguing. Yamazaki thought about him as their annoyingly smart captain, who had managed to piss him off more than once. On the other side, Hara often described him as some kind of tsundere which was way too harsh towards their team sometimes. And Seto simply described him as "that genius he was supposed to beat" and as "an incredible individual". Other people often spoke about him as some kind of unique genius, while anybody that had played in Kirisaki Daiichi's basketball team was deathly afraid of him, often claiming that they would be facing death if they ever said something bad about him. Not that Hanamiya cared about them, since people's thoughts about him were some of the things he cared about the least. He would often laugh at their thoughts, claiming that they were losing their time. But Hanamiya wasn't exactly different from them; sometimes he would talk about certain people behind their backs, claiming that they were annoying and that they weren't worth his time. It didn't happen too often, since Hanamiya mostly kept his thoughts to himself.

Reasons like that were why some people often thought about Hanamiya as someone fascinating, when he himself hated being labeled like that. He didn't even like having people label him, since they'd always label him with things such as "that mysterious genius", or something that had to do with his intelligence. When asked to describe himself, however, Hanamiya would simply claim that he was "yet another student", not going any further than that. He'd never bragged about his intelligence or his grades before, nor he'd become surprised when he first saw his name at Kirisaki Daiichi's student ranking. He didn't thought about himself as someone special; he just thought that he'd been lucky.

The library's clock nearly marked 5PM, and Hanamiya knew that it was time to go home. Previously, he'd told Furuhashi that he wouldn't be attending practice that day, as he not only had to take care of home, but he also had to attend some issues from the Student Committee. It had happened many times before, and the entire team had eventually gotten used to this, to the point some of them didn't even notice that he'd left sometimes. Hanamiya hadn't told them himself yet, as he thought that it was useless for them to know; meanwhile, the other third years had simply explained that Hanamiya had some issues to take care off.

Picking his book from the table, Hanamiya stood up and glanced at Furuhashi, as if he was about to tell him something. However, no words were needed, as Furuhashi already know what he wanted. Furuhashi lowered his head, and Hanamiya left, not without patting the taller boy's head before for no reason at all.

-Better not go easy on them - he smirked, as he withdrew his hand from Furuhashi's head -, _vice-captain_.

···

Hanamiya woke up to the sound of raindrops hitting against the room's window. The window's blinds had been lowered by his mother little ago, so the window wouldn't end up stained. He didn't have to turn in order to find out that his room was immaculate, almost left untouched. There was only a thing bothering him, and it was his hair, which had now grown further his shoulders and was spread all over the pillow. And he'd thought about cutting it off, but Hanamiya was unable to recall any hairdresser near home; he'd have to walk to the heart of the city itself, increasing the chances of being seen and having random people take pictures of him. Hanamiya wanted anything but that.

But that wasn't what was bothering him the most. The day before, not only he'd recalled a good part of his childhood, but his mother as well. Those were supposed to be good news; except that he'd recalled her in such a way that had made him feel guilty. Last night, he'd been almost unable to sleep, as memories had been coming back almost like a flood, and had prevented him from falling asleep. Because of this, Hanamiya had barely slept 4 hours the night before, but he didn't feel any tired. His head still hurt, but not as much as it'd hurt the day before, and Hanamiya slowly rose from bed, sitting on its border.

He wanted to spend some minutes listening to the raindrops as they fell and collided against the window; it had been thanks to Furuhashi that he'd learned to appreciate how beautiful and relaxing rain could be. However, Hanamiya wouldn't stay as long as he wanted to, since he was hungry too. It wasn't the kind of hunger that would leave him starving for hours, but he knew that his mother was waiting for him at the living room.

···

Miso soup, rice and Japanese tea. At first glance, it looked like a bland breakfast, but it had always been Hanamiya's favorite. His mother had also left a small chocolate bar just in case it wasn't enough.

It brought back more memories than it should.

Picking up a pair of chopsticks from the tray, Hanamiya glanced at the food before him, and then shifted his gaze towards his mother. It drew a smile on his face, being it a shy, petite smile. Because of his lost memories, Hanamiya thought that the last time he'd had breakfast with his mother had been more than five years ago, when their last breakfast together -before the accident- barely took place back in June.

Hanamiya had to confess that he liked rain more than he thought.

-...Thanks for the food - his voice sounded kind of lazy, even sleepy, and brought the rice bowl closer to himself.

His mother, who had finished her breakfast little ago, fixed her gaze on him, and tilted her head as she placed a hand on one of her cheeks, resting her chin on her hand's palm and showing a tender smile. While it had only been little more than two months since they last had breakfast or ate together, for her it had felt like it'd been nearly a year.

That's how time had flowed for them -both for the woman and for Hanamiya's teammates as well-, and it'd been worse during Hanamiya's stance at the hospital. Each night the woman had stayed over at the hospital, she had always been the last one to fall asleep. It hadn't been really different for Hanamiya's teammates: they would stay up until late, talking about the past to Hanamiya, until both him and them fell asleep. Back then, minutes felt like hours, and just getting the man to sleep was already stressing enough. And the term "good news" sounded almost strange to many of them.

And that day, Hanamiya's mother had brought some good news with her.

-Makoto, congratulations - she spoke, with her eyes brightening up towards the end.

The boy hadn't heard those good news at all. He raised his head at her, not bothering to clean off some rice grains stuck on his face, and looked at his mother with a glimpse of interest on his eyes.

She'd brought important news which had to do with Hanamiya's writing career -more specifically, with his second novel, "Risk"-, and it wasn't a surprise that Hanamiya hadn't heard about them, since he rarely ever watched TV or heard the radio anymore. He didn't exactly find it useless, just that he'd gotten tired of it as time had passed.

-Excuse me, you probably don't know. Little ago, one of your novels reached 2 million sales all over the country - she stood up, with Hanamiya swallowing that lump of rice and following her movement with his head. - This makes nearly 7 million sales altogether.

Hanamiya felt proud of himself. When he first began writing that trilogy, he'd never expected his novels to sell that much, not he'd expected someone to actually enjoy them -aside from his former teammates-. So, when he first was told that "Wonder" had reached almost one million sales all over the country, he couldn't help but smile. At first, he'd thought that it was a joke; however, all the messages and e-mails he got every day eventually convinced him.

However, Hanamiya didn't exactly write because of fame, or money. Sure, he was a famous author at such a young age, and now both him and his mother were economically stable -which Hanamiya liked more than anything-, but Hanamiya mainly wrote because he enjoyed it. Sure, sometimes he would hit a slump and fall into one of those so-called writing blocks, but writing always made him feel at ease with himself. It had been like that ever since he was a child, and it had barely changed at all.

Now, 7 million was a number far more impressive than Hanamiya's IQ -which easily surpassed Seto's-, and rather than astonished, he found himself skeptical. But Hanamiya had to believe it: in the span of 3 months, his latest novel had sold nearly 2 million copies all over the country. True was that some authors had sold far more than him in the same timespan, but it had truly exceeded Hanamiya's expectations.

-That sounds like... Quite a lot - he stuttered. No, Hanamiya hadn't always had the best reactions towards good news. He'd even felt doubtful when he was first told that he'd gotten admitted in Kirisaki Daiichi.

-I know - his mother smiled, turning to him. The miso soup had been barely touched, and both the tea and the rice bowl were half-finished. - Makoto, once it has stopped raining, would you like to go on a walk? Only if you want to, of course.

Hanamiya couldn't remember the last time he'd gone on a walk with his mother. Either she was busy with her job, or Hanamiya was the busy one, was it with the basketball team or his writing career. He wondered if they would follow a certain route which they'd always followed when he was a child, but didn't bother to ask, as he'd already found the answer on his mother's eyes. It was a "yes", and it managed to cheer up a bored Hanamiya.

Slowly, Hanamiya was getting used to true happiness. It wasn't anything like that fake happiness he felt each time he injured someone during a match -no, it was actual happiness. The kind of happiness which he'd missed from his childhood days.

···

Just like the day in which Hanamiya's accident had took place, the street was surrounded by a damp smell, filled with small, easily avoidable puddles. The temperature remained as warm as it had been during August: summer wouldn't go away that easily. Hanamiya had always liked that feeling. The sky was devoid of any clouds, with the sun quietly hiding behind some trees, and Hanamiya couldn't avoid looking around his neighbourhood. The cicadas were now gone, and all that was left were some chirps which came from small birds which rested on trees. That neighbourhood was quiet, to say the least, and some people were wandering around. People which Hanamiya didn't seem to recognize, but which he'd gotten along with years ago.

It was different from all those walks which he'd shared with Hara and Furuhashi days before, in which they would just talk, stop at a small café and go back home before lunch. Sure, Hanamiya enjoyed those walks, and liked to spend time with them as well, but it wasn't the same. Because this time, it was his mother, the woman whom he'd just recalled and which he wanted to thank more than anything, not only for taking care of him for most of his life, but everything. It was one of those walks in which Hanamiya would restrict himself to just having a good time.

The way she dressed was fairly more fashionable than Hanamiya's. In the man's case, he had more than enough with worn-out, ripped jeans which nearly showed one of his knees, black sneakers, a long blue t-shirt which showed the Moon's silhouette slowly fading, and Hanamiya's favorite dark-maroon sweater, slightly bigger than him, which he'd been wearing since middle school. Not that his mother liked seeing him with those looks -she could only complain about those jeans-, since she'd wanted him to go out somewhat well-dressed. At least, Hanamiya had tied his hair, which was something. But his long hair wouldn't last for too long, as he'd told his mother before that he wanted to get a haircut, as having such long hair bothered him at times.

As they made their way through the neighbourhood and towards the city, they met several people which used to take care of Hanamiya back then, while his mother was outside Meguro. Hanamiya couldn't quite recall them at the moment, so he just greeted them, and his mother did all the talking. They would talk about how much Hanamiya had grown up over the course of the years, and, as much as his mother tried to avoid speaking about the man's accident, that topic would eventually be brought to their conversation. And it was easy for Hanamiya to tell that talking about it made his mother uncomfortable, given the way she would rush throughout those conversations once someone mentioned her son's amnesia. Some of them would pat Hanamiya's head throughout the conversation, which he found kind of annoying. But, in order to be respectful, Hanamiya didn't complain about it.

It didn't mean that Hanamiya hadn't felt uncomfortable during those conversations.

···

The city was as lively as always, but it wasn't as noisy as it often was. As always, there were people that had immediately recognized Hanamiya and walked up to him, asking for an autograph or a picture. It hadn't took him too long to realize how famous he'd become on that area: even some of his old classmates from middle school had managed to recognize him, as well as his former Mathematics teacher from high school. Out of all of them, Hanamiya had only recognized his teacher. He'd also been unable to recognize some buildings and stores which had been built recently, in the span of 2 years, and he still couldn't recognize his old high school. However, he'd managed to recognize the hairdresser in which he would get his haircut; he'd been to that place little before his high school graduation.

That hairdresser had been their very first stop. It wasn't exactly early in the morning -nearly 11:30AM-, and Hanamiya's mother already knew that their walk wouldn't be just heading to a hairdresser's and nothing else. The man himself was also on a walking mood, so he wouldn't complain if their walk turned out to be longer than he'd initially thought. Hanamiya's previous walks with Hara and Furuhashi had been kind of short, since they'd always brought him back before lunch time, and he'd found some of them somewhat boring, mostly because of their length, and the fact that they followed very close routes. Because of that, Hanamiya felt like that walk would be special.

···

Luckily, not many people had headed to that hairdresser that day, so the wait hadn't been as long as Hanamiya's mother had expected. The girl which had assisted them had happened to be one of their neighbours, and, at the mother's request, she hadn't mentioned anything regarding the accident. It hadn't been exactly useful, as nearly everybody at that hairdresser's knew about it and about Hanamiya's amnesia. Those news had spread more than Hanamiya's mother had wanted them to.

Something else which had surprised them both was the fact that Hanamiya liked his new haircut.

His new haircut was kind of similar to the one which he'd had during high school. Except that it was even shorter than that: one of the hairdresser's guests mentioned something about Hanamiya looking like a certain volleyball player with his new haircut. His bangs reached no further than his eyebrows, and one could tell that Hanamiya was more than happy with that new haircut of his. Prior to the accident, he'd thought about getting a haircut too, since his long hair had begun annoying him for many reasons. Now, while he had to confess that he would miss wearing ponytails, he felt far more comfortable with shorter hair.

···

The temperature hadn't changed at all. None of them had gotten hungry yet, so they'd decided to continue with their walk. The only restaurants which Hanamiya could remember from Meguro were Tonki and Ju, and he'd forgotten about that sushi bar which he used to frequent during his high school days, specially when his mother wasn't home -and which he'd visited with Furuhashi after he got released from the hospital-.

As their walk progressed, they eventually stopped in front of one of those home appliance stores. Its shop window displayed many TV's altogether, all of them showing the same channel with the same news report. Neither Hanamiya nor his mother payed many attention to this, and kept on walking until a certain report came on TV and Hanamiya's feet retained him from stepping any further, stopping him right in front of all those TV's. His eyes shifted towards the biggest of them and fixed on the newswoman, who had just mentioned something about an author, and his mother stopped right next to him, wondering which kind of report they would show this time.

"On happier news, Meguro's most renowned author, Hanamiya Makoto-san, has sold more than 7 million novels all over the country-"

The screen now showed a small clip of Hanamiya during the very first convention he'd ever attended, at Osaka, when he was just 21 years old and his manager wanted to promote his recently released novel "Wonder". It had been the very first time in which Hanamiya had traveled outside Tokyo.

But Hanamiya wasn't able to recognize himself on the screen.

-Off to a good start - the woman sighed. However, she got a bad feeling about all of this.

Some people had stopped around them, which made Hanamiya specially uncomfortable. Looking sideways at them, his mother prayed so the news report would soon be over and all those people would leave them. Their surroundings soon got crowded by many of Hanamiya's fans, but those weren't the worst news.

It began when, instead of showing another clip of him attending another convention, the news broadcast showed a picture of Hanamiya doing rehabilitation at the hospital's gardens, which a journalist probably took while hiding behind a tree or some bushes. He could be seen holding a cane with his non-fractured arm, and his skin tone was far more pale than it was now, and it looked fragile, as well as his build.

"Sadly, Makoto-san got involved in an accident that left him with amnesia about two months ago, shortly after he spoke about his novel "Risk" at Nagachika Street. Now, we believe that he has recovered from that, and that he's working on his next novel. His relatives and friends haven't said anything on that subject."

Hanamiya stared at the TV's screen with wide-opened eyes, unable to take them off, and time had seemed to stop for a second, as he was frozen on the spot. He saw, sickened, all those pictures which people had took at the hospital, and the newswoman's voice was making it all worse. Suddenly, the place got filled by all kinds of whispering and blathering, with people talking about how tragic Hanamiya's accident must have been and how much his mother must have struggled because of this.

She could hear them more than perfectly. Hanamiya could hear them as well. But it was his mother the one that felt tense the most: she'd been struggling with all those people and with all kinds of gossiping about her son, including fake news spread all over the internet and the city. Her expression turned colder than usual, and just before she could turn to those people to ask them, the report finished.

"Recently, his best-selling novel is "Wonder", with more than 5 million sales around the country. It also happens to be the first one he's published. However, we've never got a chance to interview him... - she coughed. - Anyway. As for today, Makoto-san is one of Meguro's most important residents. We hope to hear more important news the next time."

Right after the news report was over, all the people that were surrounding Hanamiya and his mother suddenly stepped away, as if nothing had happened there. They had all noticed Hanamiya's presence, but none of them knew that both him and his mother had heard all of their mumblings and how they spoke about Hanamiya's condition. The woman hadn't been angrier ever before in her life, and, in order to not embarrass herself in front of her son, she just clenched her fists, with her expression switching into a slightly enraged one; and, for a slight moment, Hanamiya had been unable to believe that the woman in front of his eyes was his own mother.

But it was logical. It had made Hanamiya angry too since, after all, those people had been breaching his privacy for quite a while now. They would often chase him, his mother or his acquaintances all along the streets of Meguro, hoping they would go unnoticed. It didn't matter how hard they tried to hide or make the lowest of noises, though, since Hanamiya had always ended up finding about them. However, him spotting them didn't stop those journalists from chasing him and taking pictures of him, and they kept knocking on his door, hoping they'd get a good interview coming from him.

Hanamiya had wished several times that he and his acquaintances could spend, at least, one day without any journalists chasing or talking to them.

-...Makoto - his mother took a deep breath, unclenching her fist and relaxing her expression -, let's get going. I would hate people to see us like this.

That experience had reminded him of his very first interview, which had took place when Hanamiya was barely 20 years old, little after he'd published "Wonder". Of course, it had been nothing like that peer group pressure around them just now, nor it had been anything like those countless times in which he'd had to run away from journalists and paparazzi which wouldn't stop insisting on an interview. Hanamiya had only felt a bit nervous back then, slowly making his way throughout all those questions, but he'd ended up stuttering a lot throughout that interview. And, even though nearly 4 years had passed since that interview, Hanamiya still got quite nervous before he had to attend some kind of event like that one.

No, Hanamiya didn't exactly hate fame. He didn't regret having sold that many novels, not he hated his fans. But many times he'd wished that he hadn't got as famous as he was now. That was his only wish: that all those journalists could just leave him and his acquaintances alone, at least, for a single day.

After his internal monologue, he followed his mother into the street, and hoped that no journalists chased them along the way.

···

Their walk lasted until 5 in the evening, and the sky was about to turn orange. Small clouds wandered around its blue-orange surface, all of them dyed in warm, pastel tones, with the sun gently hiding between some buildings, as it always did. The temperature was also stronger than it had been at noon, and, as soon as they had stepped outside the sushi bar, Hanamiya had taken off his sweater, despite being extremely cold-blooded. He could handle both cold and hot weather, but he couldn't handle extreme temperatures and heat waves like those. Specially when those temperatures were low and his mother had to remind him to keep himself warm.

Because of the sky's tones and the Sun as well, it seemed like the streets had dyed on warmer tones, with yellow being the main colour of its scheme. Even the trees had small, bright tangerine highlights, despite their leaves being solid green. It almost looked like some kind of scenery out of a novel -out of one of Hanamiya's novels, since he loved describing the sky, and often used it as a metaphor. And Hanamiya happened to be incredibly good at metaphors. That neighbourhood reminded him of the one in which his novels took place -Hanamiya wouldn't be lying if he'd admitted that he had gathered lots of references from real life in order to write his novels.

Now, the view itself was breathtaking, and Hanamiya's mother had commented on it several times. Hanamiya also loved that view, but it wasn't enough to drift away his thoughts, nor it could stop Hanamiya from asking himself the same question.

"Have I really been a good son?"

Now that his mother had learned about rough play, as well as her son's hidden, darker side, Hanamiya could no longer lie to her. Specially when he'd been acting like the best of sons throughout nearly 10 years, only for guilt to slowly build up until he hadn't been able to handle it anymore. It had been the first time in which Hanamiya had truly regretted his past actions and behavior, and one of the few in which he'd been angry at himself. Not angry as if he'd made a miscalculation during a match, but as if he'd been lying to his own mother for more than a decade.

He couldn't go back in time to fix all of those mistakes. And, even if he could, there was no way in which he could fix everything. To say that Hanamiya was disappointed on himself wasn't enough; he'd never thought that he would ever regret those past actions, nor that, once he did, the guilt would hit with such strength. It was far worse than those times during high school in which his mother was at home, and he had to forcibly tell her about the basketball's team non-existent coach and their "perfect" matches, all of this along a smile that was barely enough to hide his shame. He couldn't avoid behaving like a goody-two-shoes -the kind of people he hated the most- so his mother wouldn't suspect anything.

That feeling was back. Given his quiet, stoic expression, his mother had begun suspecting about him again. It had begun with the woman looking sideways at him, as if she'd noticed that Hanamiya was hiding something. Except that, this time, he had no way out: for the first time, he would have to apologize for those actions. Feeling regretful wasn't enough. Perhaps Hanamiya would break down if he apologized, but deep inside, he knew that it was the best option. Keeping things from himself, even for another single day, would only result in a bad end, and not just for him.

When his expression went from stoic to downhearted, something never seen before on Hanamiya, his mother knew that there was something going on with him.

-Makoto? You look more stressed than usual - she turned her head. Hanamiya's gaze shifted towards hers, barely making any eye contact. - Was it because of those news? If then, sorry. We did our best for them to leave you alone, but seems like those people didn't listen to us at all.

Hanamiya knew it would turn out to be like that. If his mother and Seto, two of the most intelligent people he knew, couldn't stop those journalists from chasing and taking pictures of him, then he himself could do nothing to stop them. They would keep invading his privacy, no matter how many times his friends or his mother asked him to not do so. No matter how angry his mother got at them, or how many times Yamazaki and Hara threatened them with violence: nothing would change at all.

On the other side, he'd never been any good when explaining his issues. It was even worse than sharing a conversation with Imayoshi during middle school, except that now he'd grown up and wasn't exactly afraid to show the smallest hints of weakness. But there was a great difference between having to admit something and having to apologize for something he'd done, and Hanamiya was about to experience it.

-I know, they're really damn tiring - at this point, Hanamiya's mother didn't really mind her son's vocabulary. Suddenly, his mouth curved into the tiniest of smiles, and he stopped walking. - Still... _Mom_.

Something had been telling Hanamiya that it had been the perfect moment to tell her. The sky had now fully turned orange, with small yellow highlights, and the clouds had dyed into light-red tones, the few of them slowly dancing around the sky below them, and the Sun finally showed itself. His mother stopped right in front of him, but all Hanamiya could see was a silhouette, as that damn orb was right behind her, on top of the sky.

And, Hanamiya couldn't tell, but she was smiling. He could see hints of her face and her white trousers, but nothing else. The rest of her body had been blocked by a sun that had shown itself in the worst moment, and the temperature only seemed to increase. Summer was not over yet: it would be around for some weeks before the tree's leaves had fully turned red and it rained once again. And fall was the season Hanamiya liked the most, aside spring.

He fixed his eyes on the small figure in front of him. It seemed like his mother knew exactly what he was about to say. Hanamiya wasn't surprised. His expresion softened. There was nothing left for him to hide.

-What's it now, Makoto? Do you perhaps want to go anywhere-

-Thanks for everything, mom.

The woman looked at her son, with wide-opened eyes, wondering where'd that came from, and Hanamiya asked himself where the fuck had that come from. It wasn't like he didn't want to thank his mother: he wanted to, but not that suddenly. But it wasn't something which Hanamiya could have avoided easily.

The man's expression shifted to a more serious one when he found himself unable to come up with anything else to say, and it had reminded him of the reason as why he wasn't that grateful. For him, some sarcastic comments had always tasted better than being a good person, at least, for a couple minutes. Hanamiya still couldn't understand why being a good person was so tiring: he'd even felt like he was betraying himself at times. It didn't mean that he hated behaving like an actual human being.

Lowering both his head and eyebrows, Hanamiya brought his right hand to his left wrist, gently grabbing it, feeling the touch of his own fingertips against his pale skin. He already knew that his mother would take it easy. But she was his mother: he never knew how she would react.

-Makoto, why are you speaking as if you were to move away? - she quickly brought her hand to her mouth and cackled, removing it afterwards. - You don't have to thank me for anything. I'm your mother after all.

"But that's the reason as why I had to thank you."

The sun stood still right in that same exact spot, and Hanamiya was unable to see his mother's smile, but could tell that she was happy. The happiest she'd ever been. And that question which Hanamiya had been asking himself little before had now vanished. Now he truly felt at ease with himself, even though the guilt was still there. Not that he cared.  
Before Hanamiya could even reply to her, he suddenly wrapped his arms around his mother's small body, bringing her closer to him. Hanamiya has never been one to behave on an affectionate way, nor to give hugs, and while he felt kind of strange at first, he had to confess that it'd been a good choice. With her son's arms wrapped around her upper back, she buried her head in his shoulder, half-closing her eyes and showing a gentle smile. It'd been the first time in which Hanamiya had hugged her, after nearly a decade.

Hanamiya had to confess that he liked hugs more than he'd thought. He wasn't someone to like physical contact at all, specially when it came from people he didn't like. But hugs were an exception to this. The way in which his mother ran her hands down his back was more than enough to melt him inside -something which Hanamiya had barely experienced before-, and he didn't want to let go. For a moment, he felt like time had stopped for a second, and like he'd gotten rid of all of his problems and concerns all of the sudden.

True happiness. Now he knew how it truly felt like. The kind of happiness which he'd felt like by breaking team's aces and entire teams as well wasn't exactly fake, but was rather happiness which came out of boredom. But that kind of happiness which had delivered from a single hug was more than happiness. It was a wave which had run through Hanamiya's entire body, and that had made him feel loved at last. It no longer felt like something foreign; as seconds passed, and Hanamiya's grip weakened, he was slowly getting used to it. Closing his eyes, Hanamiya saw small memories from his childhood slowly coming back as he realized that he'd been a good son; perhaps not the best of them all, but good enough to be proud of himself.

Under that tangerine sky, as clouds removed themselves from the sky, he'd finally made peace with himself.

···

Sundays. They had never been Hanamiya's favorite days, given the fact that, aside from reading, writing, and taking care of his garden, there was little which he could do. Now that he'd recalled some of the city's streets, however, he'd thought about going outside for a short walk, but it would mean taking an unnecesary risk, as all kinds of people -journalists and some of his fans- would be able to see him. Not that Hanamiya had always had the best sense of direction, but his was far better than Seto's.

Sundays had always been a boring day to him. Little before, he'd finished re-reading his second novel, "Risk", which had helped him to plan future chapters for the third one. But Hanamiya just couldn't bring himself to write at all. He'd happened to be inspired to write, but it was motivation what was missing at the moment. It didn't mean that it was impossible for him to grab his laptop and get writing, but, unless the smallest degree of motivation made its appearance, the result would be sloppier than some of his usual drabbles. Not that Hanamiya cared -he actually did-.

The temperature had slightly dropped since August, but it was still fairly warm. Soon or later, nights would turn colder. He'd barely woken up a couple of minutes ago, and, as expected, the sky had an amazingly bright blue tone, with the sun reigning upon it, and little-to-no clouds wandering around. As usual, the neighbourhood was silent, and the only thing which he could hear was his mother speaking with one of her friends -which happened to be Yamazaki's mother-, some birds chirping, and some cicadas which didn't want summer to end. The perfect summer scenario.

He stepped into his room and sighed, holding a cold glass of water as he sat down before his desk. He left the glass near a couple of works-in-progress and his favorite notebook -a teal one with a total of 160 pages which Furuhashi had gifted him during high school, and, which for some reason, still had pages left-, and immediately noticed that somebody had left him some messages.

"Hanamiya,"

"Your manager has probably told you before, but, you have an upcoming interview on the 9th of this month at Roppongi. It will be broadcasted all over Tokyo -no, the country, and it'll be quite long. Get ready."

"Also, I won't be able to take you, as I want to focus on my recipes. Seto will be the one taking you. It won't take too long, and you'll be back home right before dinner. But it's an important one, I'm telling you. Seto will probably stay there in case something happens."

"Take care."

After he'd left the phone back on the desk, Hanamiya couldn't help but laugh at himself. He'd forgotten about that damn interview. His manager had been telling him since that month had begun -that's it, for nearly four days-, but that thought had always slipped out of his mind. And he was well-aware that it was, by far, the most important interview which he'd give so far. Right there was where the issue lied: an entire country would be seeing him, and interviews were already kind of hard to deal with to him.

At least, Seto would be there to help him. But it wasn't like he'd read any of Hanamiya's novels: despite his intelligence, University had drained all of his free time, and even during weekends he'd struggled when handling his free time. Hanamiya wouldn't force him to read any of them, though.

Shortly afterwards, Furuhashi sent yet another message. This one managed to catch Hanamiya's attention, fixing his eyes on the phone's screen.

"By the way, I've been discussing it with the rest of us, and we've already picked a date for our get-together."

"September 24th. Seems like neither me or Seto have any exams, and Hara only has band practice early in the morning, plus Yamazaki only streams late at night."

"It's up to you, remember. Exams start to kick in during mid-November, so anytime before is alright."

Hanamiya already had to worry about one of the most important interviews of his career so far to pay any attention to a get-together that could perfectly take place during October, or even later. It didn't meant that he didn't care about that get-together, of course. But, right now, that interview was his highest priority.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With three chapters left, I feel like this fic has gotten really predictable. After the next chapter (which... you can already figure what it'll be about), the ending will probably seem to be predictable, but the truth is that, aside from the get-together and a certain scene, I haven't planned anything yet.
> 
> But the final chapter will be long. It'll all depend on my mood and all the ideas I have at the moment, though.
> 
> (There's also no confirmed vice-captain for KiriDaii, but I headcanon Furu as their vice-captain. It's the most logical choice.)
> 
> (By the way, the "past FuruHana" tag is an actual thing. It'll be explained soon, but it really doesn't contribute to the story. I'll see. And, about my next fic, which I don't guarantee, just ak about it. It's based off something I found on Pixiv little ago and I really like the concept.)
> 
> Leave a comment or some kudos if you liked it!


	14. インタビュー (Interview)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya attends an interview. Akashi Seijuurou is also there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With two chapters left, I've already planned what to do and how to finish this fic. The next one is all about Furuhashi and Hanamiya (hence the "past FuruHana" tag), while the last one is the get-together.
> 
> Longest chapter so far. I don't know about the finale right now, but it might surpass 15K. I love writing long chapters, after all. But I might tone it down for my next KD fic, which I should upload after I'm done with this one. (That's it, I'm gonna write for these guys until Fujimaki and/or IG release official art for them. Which means that you'll have KD stuff until I fucking die.)
> 
> (imayoshi is ooc as fuck as always sorry)

The 9th had arrived sooner than expected. Hanamiya had spent the entire last week not only writing, but also getting ready for that interview. He didn’t know what to expect coming from that interview, it lasting for roughly half and two hours and being the most important interview he would attend so far. Hanamiya actually had some experience from previous interviews, but when it came down to strange questions -such as questions about his private life, and anything he’d considered “unexpected”-, he just didn’t know how to react. And now, with his sudden accident in between, nobody knew what to expect. If, instead of asking him about his novels, the interviewer simply focused on his personal life and his amnesia, then, Hanamiya would just leave that interview, no matter if it had been hours or if it had just begun.

That was one of the reasons as why Seto had chose to attend the interview with him. It wasn’t exactly different from his role in the team back then, in which he’d often assisted Hanamiya with both match analyses and passes. Except that this time, he would probably be even more useful that he’d been before. Hanamiya used to be exceptionally good at stealing passes, even without Seto’s help, but it was different when it came down to interviews. In both cases, he’d summoned him: back then, to assist with him passes, and today, to help him get through that interview. Seto wasn’t exactly needed, though, but Hanamiya had asked him just in case.

To say that Hanamiya was nervous wasn’t exactly exaggerating. He did felt nervous, because that interview would be broadcasted all over the entire country, and he’d never liked being recorded. For some reason, he felt like it would be something quite similar to his first interview, except that now he had to be careful regarding any possible questions that could make him uncomfortable. Plus, both Seto and Hanamiya had been expecting anything, ranging from simple questions about Hanamiya’s novels to more private ones; and Hanamiya’s manager, who had talked to those people earlier, could do barely anything to change those questions. Everything seemed to be set in stone, and there was nothing they could do to change anything.

Not that it had bothered Hanamiya; just that he didn’t know what to expect.

For now, he’d left those thoughts slowly wandering through his mind as he looked outside the car’s window, watching all those buildings passing by as they got closer to their destination. His habit of always sitting near the window, was it at school or when traveling, hadn’t changed at all, with his olive-green eyes slightly fixed in the streets outside, as if he was searching for somebody. And, that day, the sky was incredibly clear, unlike the previous days in which it had rained: the sun reigned over the sky, devoid of any clouds. It was hard to believe that it was September.

It seemed to be the perfect setting. Or, at least, that’s what Hanamiya thought, until someone nipped one of his cheeks. Their touch was cold, with their fingernails slowly dug in Hanamiya’s skin, and after a while, they removed them. Hanamiya didn’t even bother to scold them, as he knew fairly well who had done that. He simply shifted his gaze towards him, slowly turning his head towards the man next to him, and he couldn’t help but giggle at his relaxed expression.

-Kazuya - the smaller man sighed, turning his head back to the window -, if you keep this up, I’ll have to ask Kentaro to drop you.

Hara couldn’t complain about this. After all, he’d been the one that had asked Seto to take him to Roppongi on the first place, because of a concert. The reason he’d asked Seto, instead of heading with his own band, was because he wanted to spend some time with both him and Hanamiya, even if it was just for 15 minutes. It wasn’t something which happened to him too often, since he’d been busy recording new songs with his band; and each time he’d had some free time, instead of taking a break, he would often drop at either Hanamiya or Yamazaki’s houses, or simply practice new drumming patterns.

He wasn’t so sure about Seto, but he could tell that Hanamiya had been pretty stressed that week, specially because of his sleepy eyes. And, for the first time, Hara could understand him, since he used to struggled a lot with interviews in the past. Now he’d gotten used to it, but he still got anxious each time he had to confront an important interview. Slowly turning his head towards Hanamiya, he thought about giving him advice for that interview; however, as soon as Hara recalled the way in which Hanamiya often treated him, he forgot about it.

Hara clicked his tongue in annoyance. He didn’t even want to attend that goddamn concert: these last days, he’d been struggling with a sudden depressive episode which had nearly made him give up on drumming, and give up his career as well. Some glances of said episode were still left, but he’d been able to hide them from his band, and from his bigger brother as well. But Hara doubted whether he could hide it from _them_ , too.

-Now, now - he muttered, unaware that Hanamiya was ignoring him. - Anyway, Hana-chan, something about the interview you might want to share?

-Not really - he replied on a dull tone, without removing his gaze from the window. - I just hope that they won’t dig too much in my personal life.

It didn’t look like it, but Hanamiya was willing to leave the interview if he was asked something rather private. Obviously, it would be something really rude coming from him, but nowhere nearly as bad as rough play used to be. Not that Hanamiya cared about those people at all; he wasn’t like his manager, Yoshida, or even Seto, who both cared about Hanamiya’s image up to a degree. No, Hanamiya didn’t exactly care about fame: he simply hated it.

Seto seemed rather nonchalant before his words, not wanting to meddle in their conversation, and eventually they stopped in front of a red light. That day’s traffic turned out to be much better than he’d initially thought it would be, and he sighed in relief, as he browsed throughout the radio stations, looking for something which might interest him. Seto didn’t bother to stop at any of the multiple news stations, since he’d thought that they would be all talking about Hanamiya’s upcoming interview, while perhaps spreading fake information.

Eventually, he stumbled upon a music channel. And, briefly before he could turn off the radio, Hara nearly jumped out of his seat and yelled at him before he could do so, thus making Seto withdraw his hand from the radio’s surface. Placing his hand back on the steering wheel, both Seto and Hanamiya -who wanted to scold Hara because of what he’d just done- soon knew the reason as why Hara had reacted like that, little after Hara began humming along the tune.

-Is that one of his songs? - Hanamiya asked, using a rather rude tone which wasn’t exactly strange to hear from him. For a moment, Seto turned to him and nodded.

After the traffic light turned green again, Hara slightly lowered his voice, still loud enough for both Seto and Hanamiya to hear his humming. The latter man sighed at him, hoping that the song would soon be over, but he couldn’t help but like it; specially because of its drums. Now, Hanamiya had long forgotten that Hara actually played the drums, but he knew that Hara played on that band. He knew about Hara’s musical career, but he’d forgotten that he played the drums.

Before he could say anything, Seto cleared his mind. 

-That’s Kazuya playing the drums, by the way.

Hara still couldn’t understand how he was able to speak while driving without getting distracted at any moment: it was one of the many skills which Hara wished he could have. It wasn’t anything like drumming, which had almost come naturally to him, and his poor attention span would only make it harder. Hara hadn’t even learned how to drive: out of the entire group, he’d been the only one that hadn’t took driving lessons so far.

That song, which happened to be kind of short, soon ended, and Hara kindly asked Seto to turn off the radio afterwards. Now they were incredibly close to Roppongi, as they could see all those buildings rising in front of them, as well as a clear-blue sky which covered all of them. Seto didn’t have to leave Hanamiya in front of the interview’s place, since it didn’t start until nearly 11:30AM and it was close to 10:30AM at the moment, so Hanamiya would have nearly an hour to hang around Roppongi, or simply get ready for that interview. Meanwhile, Hara had to get off at a specific spot -a hotel in which he was supposed to stay during his stance at Roppongi-, and he wouldn’t go back to Meguro that exact same day.

But it wasn’t like any of them wanted to attend Hara’s concerts.

···

Roppongi happened to be much bigger than what Hanamiya had initially thought. He had actually been to Roppongi before, since his team had to attend a training camp; however, like most of his middle, high school and basketball memories, it was _gone_. Because of that, Hanamiya felt like it was his very first time ever going to Roppongi: he couldn’t help but stare at all those buildings which gently scrapped that clear-blue sky, along full-blown trees which spread out throughout the entire street. That street was entirely made of buildings and small shops and restaurants, and was different from any place which Hanamiya had previously been at, as far as he could recall. Those buildings’ windows reflected the sunlight in such a way, it reflected that light back on Hanamiya’s eyes. And he’d found it rather annoying, since it made him forcibly squint his eyes in order to avoid it.

In front of himself, he could see Seto, and Yoshida, his manager, and the one that had set up that interview. That interview itself was pretty much unpredictable, even for a genius like Hanamiya was, but Yoshida had done his best in order for the interviewers to not ask him anything too personal. Hanamiya was obviously thankful because of this, as he probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything by himself, and Seto would’ve just been a stranger to those people. That middle-aged man, which Hanamiya initially hadn’t really trusted, had turned out to be one of his biggest allies. Behind him, a modern-looking apartment could be seen, it being nearly 12 stories tall. Seto didn’t own any single floor or home in Roppongi, nor did Yoshida live at that apartment, and none of them were able to recognize it.

That apartment was the least thing Hanamiya cared about at the moment. Aside from his unnoticeable stress, he had the need to scold both Seto and his manager. They were right in the middle of the street, where everybody could see them and everybody could take pictures of them and Hanamiya without him noticing. It hadn’t happened yet, but Hanamiya could almost tell that it would happen at some point. As soon as they stepped any further, he felt like somebody would walk up to them, and would start asking dumb questions, perhaps not willing to let him go. It would leave a bitter taste on his mouth, and would simply add to his fear of stepping outside home and being chased by cameramen each time he tried to make his way home.

On his right hand, he carried a small black briefcase in which he kept his laptop. The previous days, Hanamiya’s inspiration had come back and he’d spent quite a lot of time writing: in the span of 4 days, he’d written an entire chapter without barely noticing. That made a total of three chapters, of a book which could reach nearly 400 pages if Hanamiya wasn’t cautious enough. He hadn’t just brought the laptop with him so he could write; during the interview, he’d thought about showing a small preview of what could be the first chapter to “Reminiscence”, which he would read himself in front of all those spectators. But that chapter would be really different from the one which would be featured in the actual book, as Hanamiya had to fix some minor mistakes and add some details as well.

From his point of view, Roppongi looked much bigger than it was. The buildings spread out in such a way it made the streets look infinite: most of those buildings were monochrome-toned, with some of them gently scrapping the sky, as well as the Sun. There were fewer people than Hanamiya had expected wandering around the streets, a vast quantity of trees planted around them, with some of their leaves slowly turning yellow, and some cars and motorbikes parked between them. It was something totally different from Meguro, where finding a building like those was harder than anything, and that modern-looking scenery wasn’t everywhere. Roppongi almost seemed like a labyrinth to him: Hanamiya knew that, without either Seto or his manager, he would have soon gotten lost. Not that Seto had the best sense of direction, since he would often get lost at shopping malls: it seemed like Yoshida was the only one out of them that could actually guide himself through that city, as he actually lived there.

Now, Hanamiya was smart. _Incredibly_ smart. It had been the main reason as why he’d gotten into Kirisaki Daiichi. Each month, he’d always ranked first at the school’s student ranking, and most of the time, he didn’t have to try at all to get the highest mark on an exam. However, being that smart didn’t guarantee that he was good at _everything_ ; because, even him, someone whoses IQ easily surpassed Seto’s, was bad at something. Three things, concretely. Those were drawing, dealing with bright people, and sometimes, making quick choices. Many people had thought that Hanamiya wasn’t any bad at this last one, but he actually was.

That’s why, when Seto asked about what he wanted to do, he simply tilted his head, slightly frowning his eyebrows, unable to come up with anything. He simply wanted to go on a walk and have his manager guide him through the town, and perhaps stop at a café and write for a few minutes. But, right before he could have said anything, his mind had gone entirely blank.

···

Their very first stop was the building in which the interview would take place. Hanamiya stared at it as if it was nothing special, but he actually happened to be quite surprised before it. Out of all the buildings he’d seen so far, that one was perhaps the tallest one of them: it was a TV studio, after all. Its windows, almost transparent, reflected the sun’s light in a flawless way: from Hanamiya’s perspective, it looked like the Sun was about to hide behind that building, as its silhouette became more and more prominent as seconds passed by. He couldn’t recall seeing a building like that one in Meguro. It almost looked like some sort of futuristic building.

By then, Hanamiya had perfectly memorized the building’s location and how to get it from their starting point. He’d also memorized a small fast-food restaurant nearby it. His photographic memory had been the very first reason as why Seto came to respect -and envy- him, and the reason as why many of his middle and high school classmates, and Imayoshi as well, had thought about him as someone interesting. It also had given him an obvious advantage over his classmates ever since he’d began attending school.

Sometimes, that city seemed like a labyrinth to them. Even Yoshida had had some trouble guiding himself through the city. Hanamiya hadn’t found it surprising; he simply had rolled his eyes each time they’d found themselves in the wrong path. But, just like Seto had commented, he wasn’t one to complain.

As they waited for 11:30AM to come, in order to kill time, Yoshida showed them around. There wasn’t any specific place which he’d wanted to show them, aside from a small sushi bar which he’d often frequented. Despite it being placed nearby the outskirts of the town, hidden behind a row of buildings and right under a hotel, it was quite famous; so, before heading towards that place, Yoshida had phoned them in order to make a reservation for 2:00PM, since the interview would have probably ended around 1:30PM. That place, simply named “Higashikata”, looked fairly simple for the kind of place it actually was.

The very first thing both Hanamiya and Seto saw upon entering was quite a bunch of people waiting near the counter to be attended, as well as some of them sitting around tables placed on its left. That crowd was probably big enough to make somebody like Hara faint on the spot. Placed aside some of those tables, there were some corkboards hanging on the wall, all of them filled with many pictures which that bar’s owner had took with some customers. Although that place had looked small from the outside, it had turned out to be bigger than both of them had expected. Most of the customers around them spoke about that one interview which would be broadcasted in about half an hour, and Seto knew exactly which one they were speaking about.

Hanamiya knew too, but, given his expression, it didn’t look like he wanted to spend that much time at that place. He wasn’t even hungry at the moment; all he wanted to do was to stop at a somewhat unknown café and finish a short drabble which was unrelated to his story. Aside from that, he’d noticed that some people were aware that he was there, and he didn’t want to answer anything at the moment: his upcoming interview had already put lots of stress on him, even though it was barely noticeable. Before him, he saw people staring back at them, seeming almost blessed by his presence. As if Hanamiya was some kind of savior to them. That was something which he’d never understood about fame: how famous people were often treated as something close to religious figures. He found it sickening.

Eventually, they left, because of Yoshida wanting to show them another place before they got to the interview’s building. And, luckily, Hanamiya hadn’t seen a certain black-haired man sitting by the counter.

···

The room’s lights were dazzling upon his eyes, surrounded by a pure-white ceiling and white walls decorated with colourful, geometric shapes, and the show’s title written in a thin, black font. The show’s host sat on a comfortable-looking chair nearby a table, and held a small microphone which pointed towards Hanamiya. In front of them, they saw the spectators sitting all around the set; some of them had brought Hanamiya’s novels with themselves, and, from Seto’s perspective, it didn’t seem like the host would be the only one making questions. The group of men sat on a sofa placed right in front of the spectators, near the host, and Hanamiya took his time to adjust himself to its back.

Holding a pair of chopsticks and a cup of instant noodles, Yamazaki leaned towards his laptop, waiting for the interview to begin. Instead of going to Roppongi or just heading to a close bar, he’d decided to watch the interview from a streaming site. Actually, he’d never read any of Hanamiya’s books before, nor he’d intended to, since when he attempted to read the first one, he’d found it incredibly confusing. Meanwhile, at Furuhashi’s home, his little sister had chose to watch the interview with him. If it wasn’t for University, he could have perfectly driven to Roppongi in order to watch the interview -and, perhaps, meet Hanamiya afterwards-, but his upcoming exams and projects would have made it impossible for him to slack off. Hara was unable to watch it, since he was busy with his studio sessions -unless they took a break-, and his upcoming concert as well; and, even though he hadn’t read any of Hanamiya’s books himself, he was kind of curious about how it would turn out to be like. He’d wanted to be there to give Hanamiya some advice.

His mother was watching as well.

The spectators were as noisy and excited as they’ve never been before. It had made Seto remember a certain interview which one of Hanamiya’s favorite authors had attended way back during their high school days. It had the very same excited spectators, and the same tense atmosphere as well; except that today, Hanamiya wasn’t a spectator but the one being interviewed. He’d already assumed that everybody around them had took pictures of them, and, specially, of him. He’d also brought some sheets with him, which contained his next book’s first chapter, hoping that the host would let him read them.

When the show’s host finally managed to silence the spectators, and all the applauses were over, the interview had finally begun. From that moment, and until more than two hours had passed, Hanamiya would have to bear with anything the host -and the spectators- asked him.

-So, it’s been almost 3 months since “Risk” was released. Not only it ended up being a best-seller all over the country, but it got plenty of good reviews as well. And two-million sales aren’t a joke - he paused for a brief moment, turning his chair towards the other men. - How do you feel towards this, Hanamiya-san?

He could perfectly feel the spectator’s gazes around him, as well as a quantity of cameras surrounding him, recording anything he’d say throughout that interview. He knew it was happening, and yet, he barely looked any bothered at all. After all, he’d had it way worse.

-For starters, I’d never thought it would end up selling that much. I simply had never expected to become this famous in the first place - with his legs crossed, he swung his right feet back and forth. It wasn’t the best way to deal with anxiety. He crossed his arms and removed his gaze from the host for a moment, and then fixed it once again. - Don’t get me wrong. Fame is nice, up to a point. But to think that, about 4 years ago, I had just finished a dumb book which today has sold about five-million copies… It really does feel weird after a while. You start getting all these letters and e-mails from your admirers, and it feels like it was yesterday when you’d published that book.

Most of Hanamiya’s memories from his career years still were gone, so he really didn’t have any idea of what he was saying. He’d made it up in hopes that both the host and the spectators would believe him; and it seemed like they did.

_What a relief._

-You were only 20 years old when “Wonder” was first published. 

-Well, I really can’t complain about that. But I was even younger when I first began to write. It was my mother the one who first got me into writing. Sometimes she joked about me becoming a renowned author. However, she wasn’t actually joking, and I knew that she wasn’t when she first told me that my shitty drafts would soon be published. I remember that I was 17 when she first seriously asked me if I would like to become an author. And - he smirked, raising his eyebrows as he shook his hands, pointing them towards himself - here I am.

Some giggles could be heard coming from the spectators. One of them was none other than Imayoshi Shouichi himself, who had simply joined because that building was close to his home. And because Hanamiya was there. It had also managed to draw a small snort from the host himself.

Meanwhile, at Hanamiya’s home, his mother felt proud of him. It drew a smile on her face.

It was being good so far. Perhaps too good. For an instant, Seto thought that maybe the host was waiting for a certain moment to start asking Hanamiya about his personal life. His manager also felt this way. But that host was smarter than any of them thought.

-The books’ main character, Jun Hasegawa, seems to have a complex personality. But his actual personality is never described. We know about his behavior and personality because of his interactions, but there isn’t an exact description.

Hanamiya sighed, rolling his eyes as he leaned back on the sofa, his arms spread on its back. He slightly tilted his head, and spoke.

-I remember that Inoue did something similar in “When Fall’s Over”. Rather than developing the character, have it develop itself. That’s what he said. Have its true personality develop as the story progresses. I don’t really like having a character’s personality described in the very first page. There’s… something about it which makes it seem really boring and predictable to me - he turned his head towards the spectators. - However, in “When Fall’s Over”, Shirazu’s ambitions and his real self are never mentioned. You kind of had to figure it out by yourself. Jun is known as this silent, calculating guy, but nobody seems to know who he really is. That’s what I’ve intended from the very beginning.

He didn’t even know how he was getting through all of those questions. But he’d managed to answer three of them so far.

-Was Jun perhaps inspired by yourself?

-Partially - little after Hanamiya said this, some whispers could be heard from the spectators. - I changed some things in order for him to not be a total rip-off. And… some of you may have noticed that “Wonder”’s cover is simply a picture of myself.

If the rest of the interview was supposed to feature similar questions, then Hanamiya was more than proud to answer them. When it came down to his books, there weren’t any memory gaps left, since he’d been reading them in order to gather some small details, and also do some quick analyses as well. He’d also payed close attention to all the hidden symbolism, and secretly hoped that any of the spectators had found it.

Some people from the audience then began blathering about that cover. It wasn’t a drawing. It was just a picture of himself which Hanamiya had took out of boredom, for no reason at all. But, when he couldn’t come up with anything which he could use as “Wonder”’s cover, that picture had immediately come to his mind. And he knew that perhaps it wasn’t the best choice -people would have thought about that book as an autobiography, which wouldn’t have made any sense-, so he’d edited it beforehand. His eyebrows were still partially visible, though.

-Then, I guess that other characters were probably inspired by close ones.

-You got it right - he softly laughed. - Both relatives and friends, and characters from some of my favorite novels.

The host nodded, rather silently. For both Seto and Yoshida, it didn’t look like Hanamiya was having any difficulties with that interview. But he was having a harder time than them thought.

-Months ago, you said that one of your old classmates had inspired you to first start writing “Wonder”. It had to do with logarithms, and, because of that, “Wonder” is now known as the ‘logarithm novel’. What do you think about this?

Hanamiya removed his gaze from the spectators, and looked at the floor, unable to come up with an answer. He hadn’t recalled the logarithm story just yet, and not only he had found it kind of dumb: it was already hard to find an answer, but with hundreds, even thousands of spectators looking at him, he couldn’t even focus. Frowning, he kept focusing even more and more on an answer, but it only made it harder for him to think.

Both Yoshida and Seto had noticed some uneasiness coming from him, and the latter one patted his back, trying to reassure him, and Hanamiya slightly raised his head at him, about to scold him. Seeing as the host looked like he’d began to worry about Hanamiya, Seto decided to speak up for him.

-Excuse me, but Makoto hasn’t recalled many things about high school so far - his voice was firm, and Yoshida hoped for the best. The spectators and Imayoshi waited for the host to make his move, and Furuhashi wondered if Hanamiya was truly alright. - I hope you can understand.

After closing his eyes, the host sighed. Despite what Seto had first thought, it actually meant something good.

-I’ve never intended to make him any uncomfortable - he replied, apologizing at the same time. - For a moment, I thought that he might’ve had recalled some anecdotes from high school-

The smaller man clicked his tongue at him, attracting the host’s attention as well as interrupting him. It wasn’t exactly the best way to behave at an interview, specially with nearly five million people watching all over the country; _specially_ for someone which people idolized a lot.

“But that’s Hanamiya for you”, Furuhashi thought to himself.

-Don’t worry 'bout that - Hanamiya spoke, as if he’d wished for that interview to end. Some people from the audience applauded at him.

For a moment, the host peeked at Hanamiya’s sheets. The way in which he’d held them made them look more interesting than they already were, and, while there still were a couple of questions left, he felt like making an exception for once. Never before he’d let any writers read anything during his previous interviews, because he’d always thought about it as a waste of time. But he’d also happened to be a huge fan of Hanamiya’s writings, so he had to make an exception. 

What he didn’t know was that Hanamiya had watched most of his interviews, and he’d been at some of them too. He thought about that guy as an interesting interviewer, since that host had never dug in anybody’s personal life before. Now, Hanamiya wouldn’t become pissed at him because of a stupid mistake; however, he’d be kind of pissed if the host didn’t let him read that chapter, specially after all those hours and effort which he’d put into editing after finishing it.

-…Anyway - the host hesitated, unaware of the fact that Hanamiya had nearly predicted his next actions -, moving on… Do you perhaps have some information regarding your next novel, 'Reminiscence’?

-Well, first of all - he grinned -, in my current condition, it might be _too easy_ to write.

All of the sudden, the spectators burst into laughter, Imayoshi included. Akashi simply snorted, something which was strange to see on him -some of Akashi’s classmates and maids thought that his sense of humor was strange-, while Imayoshi cackled about how clever his kouhai was. Yamazaki could barely control his laughter, and what began as small giggles eventually grew into endless laughter. Even Furuhashi couldn’t help but snort at it.

As that place eventually got filled with more and more laughter, Hanamiya wondered why people had found his comment to be funny on the first place. He hadn’t intended to make a funny comment at all: for him, it was the truth. 'Reminiscence’ was supposed to follow Jun’s days after his accident and after he lost 8 years of memories, and Hanamiya’s situation was no different from his. Except that Hanamiya hadn’t planned his own accident, nor he’d seen it coming -but he’d seen that car drift off the road, unlike Jun-.

Yoshida had also laughed at his comment, while Seto had simply snorted at it. At the sight of them, Hanamiya frowned, lowering his eyes upon his sheets, which he yet had to read; and reading that chapter would probably take him 10 minutes, maybe 15 if some spectators decided to interrupt him. It also seemed like Hanamiya wanted that interview to be over, as it had barely been 15 minutes since it had begun, and he already looked tired. As the laughter around them slowly vanished, Seto turned to the smaller man, only to find him grasping his sheets with a strained look, as if he wanted all the people around him to stop laughing.

And, after they stopped laughing, the host took a deep breath, and afterwards gazed at Hanamiya’s sheets. Some of the spectators had been wondering about what could it be, and some of them had already assumed that it had to do with some upcoming projects. They weren’t wrong.

-…Anyway, Hanamiya-san - the host spoke, trying to hold back some giggles, and Hanamiya turned to him -, are those sheets perhaps related to 'Reminiscence’?

-It’s the first chapter actually - he replied, as he rose the sheets in front of the spectators. - Would it be alright if I’d read it?

The host paused for a moment. Not only it would be a long read, but there were also many questions left for him to ask, as well as the spectator’s part. He also knew that, if he denied Hanamiya’s petition, most of the spectators would turn against him, and even Hanamiya himself would become angry at him. But, if he thought about it, it would benefit his program, and the spectators as well, while at the same time leading to more questions regarding Hanamiya’s novels.

Furuhashi watched this from his living room, his arms folded and placed on the table, with a small basket full of oranges and pears placed in front of him. The few light which his eyes reflected was the one that came from the TV, and he seemed so focused on that interview that his little sister was on the verge of asking him. He’d actually read that chapter some days before, when he dropped by at Hanamiya’s home after University, since Hanamiya wanted him to check for possible mistakes, specially regarding kanji. He already knew what to expect coming from it, but he was excited anyway. Particularly because Hanamiya would be reading it himself.

After some seconds, the host finally made a choice.

-It’s alright. But, Hanamiya-san - he gave the microphone to said man, showing a slightly smug expression -, you should be aware that the interview will only be longer if you read it.

-But the fact that I’ve requested reading the chapter should mean that I’m aware - actually, Hanamiya was only half-aware of the consequences. He also still didn’t understand why that interview would last for nearly two hours, since certain people hadn’t told him about its second round.

···

25 minutes. That’s how long Hanamiya had took in order to read the full chapter. He’d obviously gotten tired at some point, yawning twice throughout the read, and sometimes he’d felt like both the host and the spectators, as well as Seto and Yoshida, were all getting tired of all the reading, when they weren’t. Only Yamazaki had gotten tired of it, to the point he’d stopped watching it just to entertain himself with some videogames. Furuhashi had watched throughout those 25 minutes, and with it, he’d found numerous references to Hanamiya’s previous novels, as well as a possible reference to the man’s early days at the hospital.

After the reading was over, the room got filled by applauses and compliments again, all of them directed towards Hanamiya. Was he able to take compliments? No. He’d never been able to, no matter if compliments or any kind of displays of affection. Each time one of those took place, he had no choice but act like it was something which he was used to, when it wasn’t. _Particularly_ compliments, since Hanamiya couldn’t but lower his head out of embarrassment, simply muttering a small “thanks” to whoever had complimented him.

Having one person compliment him was already hard enough to deal with. Having more than a hundred of them compliment him was even worse than dealing with his team; it was something which Hanamiya could barely handle. Seto had figured it out because of the expression he’d made.

···

The second round, which Hanamiya hadn’t been told about, was almost the same as the first round; he was supposed to talk about his books and his writing career in general, and answer questions about them. Except that now it wasn’t the host, but the spectators would be the ones asking him. Now neither Hanamiya nor Seto could predict anything, since all of their predictions had already been achieved thanks to the host.

It was hard to choose, since lots of people had raised their hands at the same time. Akashi Seijuurou was one of them, except that his wasn’t noticeable at all; Imayoshi hadn’t raised his hand at all, but he was certain that Hanamiya would probably reply to his question at some point. Yamazaki wondered if it was possible for him to ask something via phone, but, since the host hadn’t said anything about it, he’d eventually assumed that only spectators could ask Hanamiya. He pouted before this, wondering if staying at home had been the best idea. All of Furuhashi’s questions had already been answered by Hanamiya himself before.

The first person to have their doubts answered was a young boy from Akita. Hanamiya had done nothing but randomly point at one of the spectators. The boy stuttered as he spoke, which made Hanamiya gently snort. Yoshida nearly pointed it out.

-A-Anyway, my question is… Since the preview to 'Reminiscence’ was that long, is 'Reminiscence’ perhaps going to be any longer than 'Risk’ or 'Wonder’?

-Most likely - he grabbed a small water bottle from a table near him, and brought it to himself. - 'Wonder’ had a word count of 83.600 words, and 'Risk’ had nearly 90.000 words. That 'Reminiscence’ surpassed 90.000 words wouldn’t surprise me, since the series’ history has developed quite a lot until now.

The boy stopped for a moment before replying, and Seto wondered if Hanamiya had counted the exact number of words for each chapter and book. Some muttering could then be heard from around the set as Hanamiya drank some water.

-Then, does it mean that you’ll be fixing every plot-hole in 'Reminiscence’?

-Probably - he placed the water bottle back on the table, keeping a stoic expression. - However, I might not be able to fix everything. Specifically Kawakami’s situation. I don’t know what my past self was thinking about while developing all those characters. Who knows, maybe he was a masochist.

“You’re one to talk”, both Seto and Yamazaki thought.

The boy seemed satisfied enough with that answer, and thanked Hanamiya for his reply. It had now been more than one hour since the interview had begun, and Hanamiya understood the reason as why it would last for two hours. There were probably about a thousand people around that set, and it wouldn’t be exaggerating at all. It made Hanamiya feel like that, rather than two hours, the _full_ interview would take up to three hours.

After looking around the spectators for a while, Hanamiya spotted a small girl which held a sign with “I love you, Makoto!” written over it. The man couldn’t avoid but laugh at it as he brought his hand to his mouth, unable to hold back a loud cackle which resonated throughout the entire room. It also reached the girl, who didn’t look ashamed at all before this, since having Hanamiya laugh at her sign had been her main goal. But Hanamiya, obviously, didn’t know about this.

-Makoto-san, I know this is kind of sudden, but, how would you feel like about having your books adapted into a movie or something alike?

-I’d be fine with it - he spoke, keeping that stoic expression from before -, as long as I directed it and chose the cast and staff. Lately I’ve been reading lots of news regarding, if not bad, really shitty movie adaptations, and it just makes me sad. Now, if it was one of those anime things… I’d be more than alright with it, but I’d write the script myself. But, as I’ve said before, I’d be fine with either a movie or an anime adaptation. Only if done right.

As arrogant as he may had sounded, Hanamiya had done nothing but speaking his mind. The girl simply nodded at him, having found his answer kind of rude, but being able to understand at the same time. Some spectators spoke about how self-centered he’d just sounded, while some others had found his comment to be a clever one. Seto had also found it to be somewhat rude, but he could understand the reasons as why Hanamiya had said something like that. Meanwhile, the host had seen it as a risk, just like he’d done with some of Hanamiya’s previous answers. He didn’t want his show to be censored just because of a genius speaking his mind.

Eventually, Hanamiya spotted Imayoshi inbetween the spectators, keeping that damn smug face and those closed eyes, such as a fox’s. It didn’t look like he had any sort of questions for him; rather than that, Imayoshi was simply observing him. Just like always. He’d also found some people which he’d seemed to recognize, and which happened to be some of his old classmates from middle school.

However, something unexpected soon caught his attention.

-Hanamiya-san, I have a theory which might interest you.

It was none other than Akashi Seijuurou himself. His voice had managed to send shivers down some of the spectators’ smiles, and, while he didn’t intend to look intimidating, he did. Akashi Seijuurou, heir of one of Japan’s richest families, now running his father’s business, was also an avid fan of Hanamiya’s books, and had noticed some details which other people hadn’t. His seat happened to be fairly close to the main set, which had made it easier for Hanamiya to spot him. Wearing an expensive-looking suit and holding 'Risk’, it was hard to believe that someone like him liked Hanamiya’s novels, even to the man himself.

While he was unable to recall him at first, it hadn’t been until he’d seen Akashi’s crimson gaze that Hanamiya had managed to remember, at least, a bit of him. All of which he’d recalled was about him leading Teiko’s basketball team, but it seemed to be enough for him to engage in a conversation with him.

-Go for it - he removed his own gaze from Akashi’s.

-You’ve never explained the reason as why, despite them being good friends, Kawakami decided to stay away from Jun during the eleventh chapter of 'Risk’. There are many things about him which had never been explained, such as his cold behavior towards his friends and classmates from Yukinohara, particularly during 'Risk’. However, in the sixth chapter of 'Wonder’, it was mentioned that Kawakami already behaved that way during middle school, which, to me, meant that he hadn’t been bullied back then.

Hanamiya couldn’t help but nod at him. Unlike most theories people had made about that character, that one actually seemed interesting to him.

-That’s because he’s socially awkward. He’s always been. But, please continue.

-But, Hanamiya-san, you’ve never explained why Kawakami is like that, and that’s the reason as why I’ve made this theory - Akashi stood up. - That he wasn’t bullied or abused means that he’s behaved like that from a very young age. But in the eighth chapter of 'Wonder’, as well as the ninth, it is briefly mentioned that one of his classmates was having a hard time because of their group of friends; and that, as much as he wanted to help, Kawakami couldn’t do anything - he cleared his throat. - Kawakami isn’t socially awkward, as you say, because of bad experiences. He chose to not trust people after seeing what happened to his friend, which as you know, nearly commited suicide, something mentioned on the ninth chapter as well. In summary, despite being close to Jun and the rest of the group, Kawakami fears that something like what happened to his former friend might happen to him too. He’s afraid of betrayal. He doesn’t want his friends to leave him, nor he wants to be hurt, which is why sometimes he acts on a distant way towards them. That’s my theory.

After Hanamiya managed to process some information, he _had_ to clap at him. And not only Hanamiya, but many of the spectators as well, Imayoshi being one of them. Never before he’d read a theory like that one. But, coming from Akashi himself, he hadn’t expected anything less: after all, Akashi was perhaps even more analytical that he was. Not to mention that the very same theory which Akashi had thought, was something which had wandered around Hanamiya’s mind for a while, after he finished re-reading 'Risk’. It was different, yet it was something close to Hanamiya’s thoughts.

The applauses all vanished, and Akashi sat back. Yamazaki’s jaw had dropped throughout his entire speech, and it had slightly reminded him of Hara, whoses trust issues had troubled him during high school. Thanks to it, Yamazaki now felt more dumb than ever. Furuhashi, someone that had actually admired Akashi throughout middle and high school, hadn’t been exactly surprised; just disappointed at himself, because he hadn’t noticed any of those details. He’d been one of those people to think that Kawakami had just been bullied. Hanamiya’s mother quite liked that outsmarted expression on his face, and the fact that her son had just accepted that theory had only made it better.

-Akashi Seijuurou-kun, was it? I’ll be frank with you - he lowered his head, then raised it to take a better look at the red-haired man, and grinned at him. - That theory of yours, as you refer to it, is actually incredibly close to canon. Who knows, maybe that theory _could_ serve as canon.

In brieftly two minutes, a red-haired man had explained something which Hanamiya himself hadn’t been able to explain in two books; Akashi had solved an entire plot-hole by himself, and Hanamiya couldn’t be more than amazed.

-I’m glad, Hanamiya-san - his kind behavior seemed kind of tetric to someone like him.

···

After such an interesting round of questions, which had nearly left Hanamiya speechless -particularly after Akashi’s theory-, all he wanted to do was to stop by at a cheap place and eat. Yoshida had left both him and Seto at a small ramen bar nearby the town’s exit, and Hanamiya deeply appreciated it. It was a relatively small place, with little-to-no people, aside from some waiters and people that had just watched that interview.

Now, Hanamiya had ordered a bowl of miso soup. He hadn’t ordered seeing Imayoshi at that very same place, nor having him sit with them. The worst part of this was that Imayoshi acted like Hanamiya, who sat in the middle of them, had invited him to that place. Seto behaved as if it had nothing to do with him, to which Hanamiya replied by _softly_ hitting him with his elbow.

-Imayoshi- _san_ \- he spoke on a dull tone, waiting for his order to arrive, and the older man kept that same smug expression from before -, have you perhaps been following us?

-Actually, each time I come here I always end up eating here - he laughed, surrounding the smaller man with his arm -, but thanks.

Almost six years ago, when Hanamiya had first told Seto about how his senpai, Imayoshi, had a personality even worse than his, Seto had initially thought that he was kidding. For him, there wasn’t anybody with a personality far worse than Hanamiya’s. Except that there was, and they’d just met at a cheap bar. Imayoshi’s smug, quiet expression was intriguing.

At first sight, it didn’t look like Seto was any interested on Imayoshi -and his relationship with Hanamiya-. But, somehow, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Hanamiya had beared with him throughout middle school. He didn’t even want to think about which kind of middle school they used to attend. Now, it didn’t matter how friendly Imayoshi acted around Hanamiya; rather than out of affection, it seemed like Imayoshi was doing it just for the sake of annoying Hanamiya.

But unlike most times in which Imayoshi had suddenly shown up, Hanamiya now seemed to be unaffected by this. With his arm surrounding Hanamiya’s back, Imayoshi kept nagging him, talking about the interview and how great it had been, as if he was trying to test his patience. The few times which Hanamiya had mentioned their relationship, he’d only been able to describe it as “complicated”, and nothing else. He did respect Imayoshi, but because of the way in which he’d often behaved towards him, he really couldn’t take him seriously.

-Anyway, Kentaro - he tried to ignore Imayoshi as much as he could, and turned to the other man, who had just ordered _shoyu_ ramen -, regarding the get-together, I’ve thought about another possible date.

Shortly afterwards, Imayoshi stopped nagging Hanamiya, only to remove his arm from him and grab some chopsticks from the counter in front of them. The waiters and cooks didn’t seem busy at all, as, aside from them, only 3 more people could be seen at that place. Which was one of the reasons as why Imayoshi often frequented that place.

-Tell me.

-October 1st. Or perhaps October 2nd. Furuhashi told me that he doesn’t have any exams or projects by that week, and he told me to ask you before making any decisions.

-Actually, I have an exam on the 28th - he checked his phone for a moment, and put it back on his pocket shortly afterwards -, but nothing else that week, so I’m alright with it.

Hanamiya nodded at him, looking around himself before noticing that his order had already arrived. Their conversation had actually appealed to Imayoshi more than it should had, and said man wondered if they were going to play basketball or something alike. Imayoshi knew that Hanamiya was ignoring him -he used to do it quite a lot during middle school, in order to not embarrass himself-, but now Hanamiya had matured and it actually seemed like he was ignoring him.

Eventually, Imayoshi’s order - _shio_ ramen- arrived, but being the kind of person he was, he’d wait for it to chill while speaking to those two men alongside him. He already knew that Hanamiya would probably not allow him to attend their get-together, since it was between former teammates, and Imayoshi did not belong to them; however, he’d ask him anyway.

-A get-together, huh? - he cackled, mockingly patting Hanamiya’s head as he spoke. - My, ya guys sure know how to have fun!

Hanamiya kept on ignoring him, sipping his soup. It nearly burnt his lips, so he soon left the bowl back on the counter, licking his lips afterwards. Extreme temperatures, no matter if cold or hot, were something which he’d always disliked, and Imayoshi could see it in his eyes. Now, he didn’t have any reason to laugh or mock him, but he’d found his expression kind of funny. Before this, Hanamiya could only react by sighing in annoyance, hoping that Imayoshi wouldn’t be around for too long.

Their relationship was still a mystery to Seto, who watched as Imayoshi kept mocking the smaller man. And, while it looked like Hanamiya was being able to handle him, something told Seto that a storm would soon unfold if things stayed like that for too long. Seto would not be able to do anything to stop it from happening, as his intellect, while astonishing, was still nothing compared to Hanamiya and Imayoshi’s as well.

Soon, he came up with something which attracted both of the men’s attentions.

-Imayoshi-san, if you’d thought about joining us, then-

-Don’t even bother, Kentaro. He’ll join regardless if we tell him or not.

-What? Ya don’t want me to join - Imayoshi opened his eyes for a brief moment, sending a shiver down Hanamiya’s spine -, _Hanamiya_? You still owe me a match, y'know.

No matter how many times the man told Imayoshi that it was supposed to be a get-together between former teammates; he would keep on insisting, and, if Hanamiya kept rejecting his petition, he’d eventually show up while the get-together took place.

···

After he made it back home, Hanamiya found out that Seto had already told the other boys about their get-together. While it had lifted a weight off him, Hanamiya would’ve liked to message them himself, as he’d been the one to choose the date. He sighed, stretching his legs as he scrolled down the group’s messages; afterwards, he’d just take a nap, wanting to take a break from that interview and Imayoshi as well.

Yamazaki, who did little aside working at a supermarket and streaming, was perfectly alright with it. It was fine too for Hara, as his band’s tour ended on the 26th, and they wouldn’t go on tour again until early November, but he’d had to ask his band mates beforehand to make sure that they wouldn’t record any songs that day. And, while he had a small project on the 4th of October, Furuhashi had agreed too, claiming that he would probably be late because of that project. Hanamiya already knew what Seto thought about his choice, so he didn’t had to ask.

Their upcoming get-together could be summarized in short basketball matches and hanging out together. It didn’t seem to be that much, yet for Hanamiya, who wanted to lead to a peaceful life, it was more than enough.

Now, he was tired, his eyelids slowly closing themselves, and he let out a small yawn. His whole body felt heavy, and he simply wanted to sleep. However, it didn’t forbid him from sending a small message to Imayoshi before doing so.

“Good grief.”

“Senpai, I know you’re going to join, no matter what I tell you. So please, stop that.”

But the though of having Imayoshi join them, and going three-on-three -with him, Seto and Imayoshi in the same team- against Yamazaki’s team, drew a smile on his face. Just for the sake of teasing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna have totes of fun writing the next chapter. which is going to be... furuhana, obviously. and flashbacks, lots of 'em.
> 
> the headcanon of seto getting lost at shopping malls belongs to mwavefield. kudos to them and their amazing headcanons!


	15. 康次郎 (Kojiro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furuhashi still has a goddamn high school crush on Hanamiya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowery FAQ. Feel free to correct me:  
> -cherry blossoms: kind/gentle.  
> -pink roses: trust/happiness/confidence.  
> -bluebell: grateful  
> -honeysuckles: generous
> 
> Updating inbetween exams and projects, holy crap. The writing zone came to me earlier than expected. But please, don't expect the next chapter to be up this month. It's the finale; it'll be long and hard to write, and I'm also bad with finales :v.
> 
> Nothing to say about this chapter, except that it's long :v.
> 
> ···
> 
> Also, if someone needs physical descriptions for the grown-up boys *hint hint*:  
> -Hanamiya's still stands at 179cm, and has gained some weight -73kg, compared to high school's 67-. His hair is slightly shorter than it was in high school.  
> -Furuhashi looks the same as in high school, except that he's surpassed 190cm and reached about 84kg. His hair has grown quite a lot, and he sometimes wears glasses now. Think about Satoru from Erased.  
> -Hara still stands at 188cm and is still skinny. He's dyed his hair pure-black and pierced his ears, which is... another of my headcanons.  
> -Yamazaki grew quite a lot compared to high school, now standing at 192cm compared to his previous 183, and has gotten a lil' chubby with 88kg. He's freckled in this fic -and he should've been in canon-, and his hair is shorter.  
> -Seto is the same height as he was in high school -190cm-, and is still skinny. He keeps the same hairstyle as back then, except that now he smokes. Which is bad, and he knows.

The rain poured against the window, almost as if it was going to break it, and the Sun was hiding behind a cluster of clouds, which covered the entire city. It was hard to believe that, after weeks and weeks of clear, warm weather, and the strongest heat wave that had struck the city so far, rain would fall upon it, trying to flood the entire place. There wasn’t any single ounce of thunder, an all that could be seen were the buildings surrounding that hospital -as well as their lightning-, a small parking in front of it, and a gray-dyed sky, vacant of any stars and even the Moon could just not be seen at all. Raindrops could easily be seen because of the buildings’ silhouettes, gracefully falling upon the street. It looked like it would never stop raining.

After watching them for a while, Furuhashi, who had decided to stay that night over at the hospital, left a small bouquet filled with white camellias next to a vase placed near the window, barely able to take his eyes off the scenery in front of him. That room, quiet and dim, brought back unpleasant memories, and the only thing that managed to invade that silence was the patient’s breathing. It was slow, yet Furuhashi could hear it, and it had managed to send shivers down his spine. Eventually, he turned, stepping towards the bed in which Hanamiya lied. Furuhashi stopped, watching over him.

Hanamiya’s appearance had barely changed at all: his skin kept that sick-white tone, and under his exhausted eyes, rings had been traced, as a result of the few sleep he’d gotten. His hair, which had gotten greasy over the course of those days, was spread all over the pillow, resembling a tree’s roots, contrasting his pale skin. With those dry lips of his, he muttered small, broken words, among many questions which had been unanswered so far. Most of his body was covered by a thin teal sheet, except for his arms, which lied on it. While his right arm was entirely bandaged, except for his hand and his forearm, his left one didn’t have any bandages, but it had a PVC carefully placed on it, connected to a bag filled with his own blood. Both of them had an unhealthy white tone and seemed fairly weak, and Hanamiya’s knuckles and collarbones could be easily seen. As unpleasant as he’d found it, Furuhashi kept looking at him.

The smaller man fixed his eyes in Furuhashi’s. Tired, watery eyes, against dead ones. Furuhashi hated that hopeless look in his eyes, and the simple thought of having Hanamiya’s mother see her son like that nearly broke him inside. He couldn’t compare himself to her in any way, specially when it came down to Hanamiya and his current condition. Furuhashi took a deep breath, and brought one of his hands to Hanamiya’s cheek, gently grazing it as if it was something fragile, then removing a tear that had formed on one of his eye’s corners. The black-haired man could only blink and look at him, as he felt that ticklish touch against his colorless skin, with many unanswered questions rambling around his mind.

-It sure is raining a lot - he withdrew his hand from Hanamiya’s cheek. Furuhashi wanted to believe that the doctors had been lying regarding his condition. - You should get some sleep. I… kind of understand the reason as why you can’t, but, you seriously look terrible.

But Furuhashi was just unable to tell himself that Hanamiya, the one that had been his friend -and partner- years ago, had been involved in an accident that previous week. That, after a one-week coma, he’d woken up and had forgotten nearly everything about himself and about those who surrounded him. He, as well as the rest of them, and Hanamiya’s mother, would have to live with it. They’d have to deal with Hanamiya’s recently-developed amnesia until his memories came back; and not only that, but journalists hadn’t been so interested in him until now, and it was incredibly hard to keep them away from Hanamiya’s room. But the one that would have the hardest time surely would be Hanamiya himself.

Furuhashi didn’t even want to think about it. He turned for a moment, only to find a small plastic chair placed near the window, and brought it closer to Hanamiya’s bed, sitting on it afterwards. Hanamiya turned his head to him, holding a groan which resulted from his wounds, and both of them kept their gazes fixed on each other’s.

-You think? - When he tried to laugh, his cackles soon turned into coughing, and Furuhashi nearly stood up from his chair to try and help him. But it was the doctors’ duty, not his.

He simply patted Hanamiya’s head, brushing his fingers against the smaller man’s hair as he reminded him to breath. Unable to stop old memories from coming back, he lowered his head, and rested one of his hands on his lap. Furuhashi didn’t know how to describe that feeling: rather than hopeless or weak, he felt slightly disappointed on himself. He’d become slightly weak-minded by just looking at Hanamiya, but then again, it wasn’t anything which he hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t like Furuhashi had never been at an hospital before, watching over someone incredibly close to him, and having it show his most vulnerable side; a vulnerable part of his which had been easily hidden under those dead eyes.

A nurse, who carried a bunch of towels, stepped by Hanamiya’s room, and asked them if they needed anything, to which Furuhashi politely answered by saying that they were alright like that, but that both him and Hanamiya would appreciate some water. After she left, he reached for Hanamiya’s left hand, softly stroking it with his fingers before placing his own hand on it. And Furuhashi wanted to hold Hanamiya’s hand so bad, he would probably be unable to hold that urge; he simply wanted to kiss the man’s forehead and tell him that it’d be alright, aware of the fact that Hanamiya had forgotten about him.

Rain kept pouring down. It didn’t seem like it’d soon stop raining, nor those clouds would vanish. That so-called summer storm would last for a while, soaking the streets as Furuhashi sat next to his friend, waiting for him to fall asleep. Having previously grazed Hanamiya’s hand had reminded of the way in which they used to hold hands -or, how Furuhashi liked to grasp his hand- as they walked back home from practice. The first time, it had been awkward, for both him and Hanamiya; but specially for Furuhashi, who hadn’t been expecting Hanamiya to actually let him hold hands. As their relationship progressed, however, things such as it and accidentally touching each other’s fingers became something normal.

How he’d wished to have those times come back. But, now, it was impossible.

- _You’ll be fine_ \- he forced a smile. Furuhashi’s voice was harsh, unsure of himself. He didn’t even believe his own words.

Furuhashi’s touch wasn’t just warm; it was gentle, delicate, as if he didn’t want to hurt him on any way. His fingers slowly caressed that hand’s surface, since Furuhashi wanted to make him feel at ease, and it didn’t look like he was willing to let go. Hanamiya could only stare at him: his breath had slowed down for some reason, perhaps because of Furuhashi’s actions, yet there were many questions which he wanted to ask. But Hanamiya wasn’t the only one of them that was anxious; despite not knowing who he was, he’d noticed a certain degree of anxiety on Furuhashi’s face. However, thanks to his dead eyes and his apathetic stance, it was barely any noticeable.

Really, he wished that he could have told Hanamiya, right there, that he didn’t want him to forget anything. That he wanted Hanamiya to call him by his name, and to remember not only him, but his relatives and his other friends as well. And that he would be right there for him. But all he’d get by telling him all of that would surely be a confused expression, followed by soft muttering and a deep feeling of regret.

After one of the nurses left a futon on that room for Furuhashi to sleep, Hanamiya pronnounced some words which would leave Furuhashi speechless, even though he’d said something like that days before.

-I still don’t know who you are - Hanamiya’s voice turned slightly sleepy towards the end.

Furuhashi’s expression remained stoic for a moment, holding back his anxiety, until he closed his eyes and slightly lowered his head. He hoped that Hanamiya hadn’t noticed his uneasiness.

After Furuhashi opened his eyes, he withdrew his hand from Hanamiya’s and spoke.

-I’m just an old friend of yours.

···

September was almost over. Many of the trees’ leaves had turned yellow and tangerine by now, almost fusing with the pale cherry-dyed sky behind them. And the sky couldn’t look more beautiful than it did that day: that pale cherry tone blended perfectly with a softer yellow one, showing hints of orange, turning almost every building and tree under it into a deep-black silhouette. Some crows stood on a nearby post’s cables, loudly cawing, being it the only sound that could be heard across the street, aside from the man’s steps, and the sound which his plastic bags made as he walked. Although loud, the man could withstand that noise. He stared at the landscape around him, having both its sky and the sunlight reflected on his empty eyes. Even him, someone that wasn’t usually surprised by anything, found it pleasing to look at.

Wearing a rather simple grey tracksuit with darker highlights and black sneakers, Furuhashi had just stepped outside a small store placed near his home, and the very first thing which had caught his eye had been that evening’s sunset. The first thought that had showed up on his mind had been the thought of him cooking dinner for his family. It drew a smile on his face. His get-together with his old teammates, and with Hanamiya as well, would soon take place, yet Hanamiya hadn’t recalled him yet, even thought they had met several times the previous days. For Furuhashi, it felt like as if he’d have to do or say something specific to trigger Hanamiya’s memories of him; but, out of all the things which they’d done together in the past, he didn’t know which one it could be. However, he knew that he wanted Hanamiya to call him “Kojiro” once again.

Those thoughts had managed to distract him more than once, but it hadn’t been the first time in which Furuhashi had gotten distracted by his own thoughts. In fact, it was something fairly common on him; he’d often distract himself and start daydreaming for no reason at all, other that he wasn’t paying attention or that he was just being clueless. That cluelessness hadn’t prevented him from appreciating the scenery in front of him, which he’d found rather fascinating; and, surprisingly, he’d also seen a small silhouette slowly moving in the distance, as if it was walking towards him. At first, he’d thought about it being some kind of animal, like a stray cat.

What Furuhashi didn’t know was that it wasn’t an animal, but a person; it was someone which he actually knew. And that silhouette was walking towards him, showing a small, slim figure as it got closer. For Furuhashi, it looked like that person was carrying something, and, despite not being someone particularly generous, nor wanting to lose any time, he’d decided to ask them if they needed any help. His steps were slow, and his silhouette turned darker as he moved further from the market; he could also feel the Sun’s warmth against his head. It didn’t took him any long to recognize that person, and seeing them brought a smile to his face. He hadn’t been expecting that.

-Do you need any help with those bags - Furuhashi’s gaze was immersed in those olive eyes in front of him -, Hanamiya?

The smaller man nodded his head at him. Furuhashi quite liked his outfit: he could remember those skinny black pants from high school, and they still looked good on him. In fact, his entire outfit -that well-known loose, dark-maroon sweater, flat black sneakers and a white t-shirt which spelled ‘Hope’ in big, gray letters, and which reached farther from his hips- was perfect. His short hair had reminded Furuhashi of his appearance during high school; and the way in which the evening’s colors caressed his face and hair, and his body as well, made him look more beautiful than ever. A tiny smirk had been drawn on his pale, slightly round-shaped face, making him appear softer than he actually was. Some of the cherry-dyed sky was being reflected in his eyes, and a glimpse of the Sun could be seen on them too. On his left hand, he held a pack of detergent which looked quite heavy for him.

For Furuhashi, he’d never looked more beautiful. Hanamiya’s right hand rested against his leg, its fingers nearly grazing the pants’ surface, and Furuhashi had the urge to just hold that hand and take him home, while talking about their high school days, all of this while holding hands. But he couldn’t: he was now 24 years old, and supposedly a fully-grown adult, and those feelings which he’d developed for that small man hadn’t vanished at all. Yet Furuhashi couldn’t exactly tell if those feelings were entirely romantic, or if he simply cared too much about Hanamiya. It was most likely to be the latter one.  
His eyes shifted towards the detergent, then back to Hanamiya’s eyes, and said man gave him a confused look, yet his expression hadn’t changed too much. Furuhashi skipped a heartbeat, and, for a moment, thought that Hanamiya had recalled him. 

“Kojiro”. That’s everything which he wanted to hear coming from Hanamiya’s lips.

-You’re the one that should be asking for help - he spoke back. - But I do need help. I-

-What, you got lost? - Furuhashi interrupted him right when he was about to continue. And, given Hanamiya’s look, it seemed like Furuhashi had been right.

A soft cackle came from Hanamiya’s lips, and the man shook his shoulders. Furuhashi just couldn’t get enough of that sound. There was something about Hanamiya’s laugh which he loved; Furuhashi even kept a short audio of that laugh which Hara had sent him years ago, and which he hadn’t stopped listening to at all, not even after all those years. He could barely describe it without mentioning that it sounded like as if Hanamiya was mocking someone: it was nearly undefinable, just like Hanamiya himself.

The smaller man’s eyes turned to the bags which Furuhashi carried; it looked like he’d spent quite a while shopping at that store, and that maybe he’d need some help to carry those bags. But it didn’t seem like Furuhashi cared about it. Hanamiya scratched his head and spoke, revealing a grin which seemed grateful and wicked at the same time. It was hard to tell the difference.

-Kind of - he withdrew his hand and rested it against his leg again. - I think I’ve chosen the wrong path, since I can’t-

Furuhashi sighed. He should’ve seen that coming.

-You can’t recall this neighbourhood? - Hanamiya had found both of his interruptions kind of rude. Except that, for some reason, he couldn’t get mad at Furuhashi; he simply rolled his eyes at him, thus confirming his assumption. - Fine. If you don’t mind, then, I’ll take you home.

Hanamiya hadn’t sensed any ounce of emotion in his words, yet he felt like Furuhashi was being honest with him. He’d also assumed, from all of his stories about high school and a certain basketball team, and about Hanamiya’s younger self as well, that Furuhashi had a vast knowledge about him, yet it still was nothing compared to his mother’s. Furuhashi had described him as someone certainly interesting, often praising his intelligence and claiming that Hanamiya had influenced him a lot. Even though it was similar to the way in which Seto spoke about him, he’d noticed some differences, such as the fact that Furuhashi seemed to respect him even more than Seto did.

It had caught Hanamiya’s attention. The ways in which Hara had described their relationship had sounded strange, if not dumb to him: Hara had been the first person to mention that they used to be in a relationship, often referring to them as “boyfriends”, and Hanamiya couldn’t but tilt his head at him, nearly astonished. But Hanamiya hadn’t believed him at first; not only because he knew for a fact that Hara played pranks like nobody else, but because he could not recall being in a relationship whatsoever. Relationships had never fully been interesting to him -specially romantic ones-, so he’d found it certainly strange.

The smaller man grinned and shook his head at Furuhashi, who took his expression as a way of thanking him. And so, Furuhashi took him by the hand and led him throughout those streets…

…Which happened to be quite a long walk, actually. Furuhashi had claimed that he knew when Hanamiya’s home was at, yet he’d decided to take Hanamiya by the wrong route in order to share a small conversation with him. They walked under the cherry-dyed sky, who had lated turned tangerine as time went by, throughout a neighbourhood which was more than well-known to the both of them. Furuhashi’s hand had firmly grabbed Hanamiya’s throughout the entire walk, to make sure that he wouldn’t get lost, and it had never dawned on Hanamiya the actual reason as why he’d done this; he’d just assumed that Furuhashi did it for his own security, and not because he truly wanted to hold hands with him. Despite this, Hanamiya had never asked him to let go, as he’d found that touch comforting; not to mention that it had made him feel protected.

Nevertheless, they hadn’t shared a fully-fledged conversation just yet, mainly because Furuhashi would’ve been unable to come up with any topics aside from high school, and felt like Hanamiya was probably tired of those anecdotes. Thus, high school hadn’t been brought up at any moment during their walk, and they had just quietly wandered around the streets, with nothing which could interrupt that moment. Except that it did, and it was none other than Hanamiya himself, who had suddenly came up with a question which would leave Furuhashi nearly speechless. 

He’d initially asked said question little before they stepped in front of his home. After he withdrew his hand from Furuhashi’s, said man turned to him, wondering if he’d done something for Hanamiya to behave like that, aside from taking a longer route in purpose. Both of their expressions had remained stoic throughout their walk, yet Furuhashi’s would change upon hearing Hanamiya’s words.

-Say, Furuhashi - his expression seemed untroubled, and the man fixed his dead eyes on his. Hanamiya didn’t seem any bothered by it. - Did we really use to be in a relationship?

It had been long since Furuhashi had become that surprised before a question. However, he could only raise his eyebrows at him, hardly showing any emotions besides a tiny degree of amazement. Now, he was unable to come up with a response that wouldn’t embarrass him; Furuhashi simply wanted to tell him that yes, they used to be together, and that those had been some of the best months of his life, yet he almost knew that, if he mentioned any of that, Hanamiya would probably laugh at him. Of course, he wasn’t certain that it would happen, but it would always be a possibility.

He sighed, and his expression went back to the stoic, indifferent one which he always showed. It was worth the try.

-You were actually quite satisfied with it, even though you claimed that you weren’t any interested in relationships.

-As far as I can recall, I’ve never been.

Furuhashi had been expecting a soft cackle to come from his lips, and for him to admit that Hara wasn’t wrong. But not that. At first, it had sounded like as if Hanamiya had doubted his response, except that he hadn’t; in fact, he’d believed Furuhashi, but because of his high school memories being all cloudy and distant, he could not recall any single moment of it. Yet he’d had dreams and had seen flashbacks of it, but those soon would be gone, as Hanamiya had even doubted whether they had truly happened or not.

Now he’d truly found himself speechless, much like Yamazaki each time he’d had to deal with their former captain. Except that, instead of not being able to understand Hanamiya’s personality, he’d dug his own hole. They were fairly close to Hanamiya’s home, and Furuhashi had initially thought about behaving like a coward and just leave Hanamiya in front of his home, without saying a word. At the last minute, however, he came up with something which completely shifted their ongoing topic, and which Furuhashi would probably regret, since he’d probably have to postpone their ongoing conversation. However, as long as he could speak to Hanamiya, any excuse was fine.

-Anyway, Hanamiya - the both of them kept walking -, wasn’t your mother’s birthday tomorrow?

Hanamiya nodded at him, showing a grin which no longer had any wickedness on it. Instead, it looked like he was glad that Furuhashi had asked him about that, because he’d probably end up asking him to help him with his present. Seeing as how Furuhashi often behaved in front of him, Hanamiya knew that he wouldn’t decline his petition.

-I’ve actually thought about a present, but I’ll probably need your help. Furuhashi, you once mentioned that you like gardening. Am I right?

They soon stopped in front of Hanamiya’s home, where Furuhashi set his gaze on his and replied.

-A bouquet? You’d like to gift her a bouquet?

-Exactly - he cackled, acknowledging Furuhashi’s question.

Before Furuhashi could say anything, he paused for a moment in order to witness the person in front of him. Behind him, his home, that place which he’d visited those last two months in order to bring back the past, could be seen. Before him, he saw Hanamiya’s small figure, surrounded by that evening’s warm tones, with the Sun reflected in his very eyes and showing a quiet stance; because of that evening’s sky, it seemed like his skin had been dyed orange. Those colors perfectly blended with each other, and they had created the most harmonious of compositions. Furuhashi couldn’t take his eyes off him; Hanamiya had never looked so beautiful to him.

It had lit a light on Furuhashi’s eyes, how gorgeous could evenings turn out to be. One of the very few times in which his empty eyes had shown the faintest of lights: this one wasn’t just a reflection of the sky, but a true light which had been lift by simply looking at Hanamiya. And Furuhashi had to admit that it was one of the most beautiful sights which he’d seen so far. Hanamiya had found his reaction certainly exaggerated, as it wasn’t anything special, since not only they’d already seen the evening sky during their walk, but Hanamiya didn’t think of himself as someone particularly attractive.

After Furuhashi noticed the way in which Hanamiya stared at him, as if he was waiting for him to withdraw his eyes, he immediately did so. He hadn’t noticed that he was being rude.

-Then - “sorry” was written all over his face, but Hanamiya hadn’t really minded his behavior -, I’ll pick you tomorrow, at this same time if you want.

Judging by Hanamiya’s interested expression, it seemed as if he’d agreed with Furuhashi’s proposal. No words had truly been needed, as, much like in high school, facial expressions were more than enough in order to understand each other. Furuhashi had took his expression as a “yes”, and thus, things had been set up. It was time for him to leave and go back home, later than expected.

But Furuhashi wouldn’t leave without patting Hanamiya’s forehead, with his slim fingers softly stroking the man’s short, pure-black hair, as if it was the most precious thing to exist. The way in which he’d touched his hair had sent Hanamiya the faintest shivers down his spine. As if he’d lived that moment before.

···

That night, Hanamiya dreamed of a long, pure-white hall with windows on its left and classrooms on its right. Many students had gathered around it, all of them talking about how they’d miss their beloved third years, and how some teachers were going to retire as well. Some of them had tried to reach for him, wishing him luck with University and even hoping that he’d become a teacher at some point. But Hanamiya didn’t need any luck; not just because his intellect would get him the best grades without even trying, but because he wasn’t even going to enroll in any University. He’d already thought about his future: as soon as he graduated, he’d start working at a library and writing a small novel at the same time, hoping that it’d get published some day.

Hanamiya simply ignored them and kept walking, politely rejecting their requests and petitions of taking a picture together. Someone had requested to head to the library, and Hanamiya couldn’t deny that request, because it would probably be their last goodbye, unless they decided to keep in contact. As he made his way through that hall, he came across Hara, who nearly stopped him to ask him about his “boyfriend” and what will happen with their relationship. Hanamiya, of course, had ignored him. It wasn’t like arriving earlier at the library would solve anything, but he didn’t want to make his supposed boyfriend wait for too long, even knowing that he wouldn’t be upset.

“Are you gonna confess too, Hana-chan?”, Hara laughed as he saw Hanamiya’s small figure before the library’s door.

That library remained as silent as usual, with its old and rusty shelves spread all across the room, filled with all kinds of books. Hanamiya would surely miss that place, and all those evenings which he’d spent there when practice was cancelled, reading and having a quiet time. And he had to confess that he too would miss that boy which he’d met nearly three years ago, at that same place, and who had become someone really close to Hanamiya over those years, to the point in which some people had even thought about them as partners. Not that any of them had minded being called “partners”, or even “boyfriends” by certain people.

A tall, brown-haired boy sat by a table nearby one of the library’s corners, with a composed stance. His hands rested together, with his back attached to his seat, and his lifeless eyes seemed to watch all over the library; however, they drifted towards Hanamiya as soon as he’d made his entrance, watching his small figure as he made his way towards Furuhashi’s table. His steps, quick-paced and silent, barely reverberated throughout the room, and soon, Hanamiya found himself picking the chair closest to Furuhashi’s and sitting next to him. The chair lightly creaked as he sat on it, crossing his arms and placing them on the table. Both of them looked at each other for a few seconds, which felt infinite.

It was just the two of them at a silent library that would soon forget Hanamiya’s name. 

Hanamiya’s sharp, olive-green eyes, seemed to stare deep into Furuhashi’s soul, as if he knew what the boy was thinking. A coldness which he’d quickly gotten used to, and which he’d slowly learned to love as time progressed. On the other side, Furuhashi’s eyes were stone-cold, and time nearly seemed to stop each time he stared at somebody with them. Rather than just scary, they were dreadful, and Furuhashi had learned to live with them ever since he was young. With his usually quiet, indifferent expression, and his dull voice, gave off an apathetic stance that defined him. And Hanamiya quite liked it.

Now, it was one of those moments where Hanamiya seemed to be able to read Furuhashi’s mind. Except that he couldn’t. Furuhashi was just way too predictable.

- _I’ll miss you_ \- Hanamiya muttered. Furuhashi had perfectly heard him, since those were the exact words which he was about to pronounce. - That’s what you were going to say, right, Kojiro?

-I’d be lying if I denied it - withdrawing his eyes from Hanamiya’s, he sighed. Sure, he would miss Hanamiya, but he’d found it certainly embarrassing for him to tell him.

A soft cackle came from Hanamiya’s lips, leaving a tiny grin on his face afterwards. On a heartbeat, he lowered his head towards the table, and soon raised it again; he, too, had removed his gaze from Furuhashi’s, thus breaking eye contact. 

Clearing his throat, Hanamiya attracted Furuhashi’s attention towards him once again. His expression, which had now turned slightly moody, with the exception of his unique grin, seemed to warn Furuhashi about his upcoming words.  
-Really? You won’t like what I’m gonna tell you at all, then.

Furuhashi quite liked people who showed masochistic-like behavior and tendencies, yet he’d never thought that he would become a masochist himself. Specially after willing to hear Hanamiya’s upcoming words, unaware of the impact which they’d have on him. Regret would probably be written all over his face as soon as he heard those words.

-Shit, fine - he sighed. - As much as I like you guys, I think it would be best for us to not meet for a while.

Furuhashi had been expecting something way worse than that. Not that he didn’t care about those who soon would be his former teammates, but, once again, he shared plenitude of opinions with Hanamiya. Something which happened fairly often, yet not always. He would miss his teammates, and, of course, he would miss Hanamiya once they graduated and each one of them followed their own way.

However, there were some things which Furuhashi wanted to ask regarding that idea of his. Such as if they would still meet, and for how long he would keep it going. His expression, just like always, remained indifferent and hollow, and it didn’t took him too long to make a choice.

To not ask anything at all.

So he just nodded at Hanamiya, drawing a small grin on his face upon his agreement. But it seemed like Hanamiya wasn’t done with his speech yet.

-As for us, it’s up to you. I’m fine with us meeting and hanging out sometimes, but I’ll start working at that one library tomorrow, so don’t you think I’ll have that much time.

Furuhashi could’ve hugged Hanamiya right there, or simply held his hand, but he would do that later, once they said goodbye to each other. In his locker, he’d earlier placed a small bouquet with pink and red roses, which he would give Hanamiya later, once they left that building. But it would be kind of useless, since Hanamiya already knew.

···

It was often said that, after having woken up from a dream, one forgot most nearly a 90% of it after 5 minutes had passed. However, this seemed to be different for Hanamiya, as his dreams and flashbacks were extremely vivid at times, and that dream had been no exception. Eventually, he learned that it had been a flashback, and one that had made him recall the reason behind that so-called “5-year rule”; that, unlike Yamazaki and Hara had thought at some point, Hanamiya hadn’t established it because he hated them. 

That rule hadn’t been established at all; in fact, Hanamiya had only told them that he didn’t want them to meet for a while, and Hara had somehow mistook that “while” for five years. And, when he told Yamazaki, the redhead thought that he was saying the truth, and so believed him. But what they didn’t know was that Hanamiya and Furuhashi, as well as Seto, had actually met a few times during those years.

Yes. He could perfectly recall that conversation, and the way in which Furuhashi had said goodbye to him that day, holding a small, pure-white bouquet with pink and red roses, which he only gave to him after placing the softest of kisses on Hanamiya’s cheek. Instead of a kiss, it had felt like a stroke, as if Furuhashi hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to him: as if he’d thought about it as their last goodbye. Because, deep inside, he’d wanted to ask Hanamiya if they were going to meet again anytime soon. Not only this, but Hanamiya had also recalled Furuhashi’s last words upon his departure.

_“…And I wish you the best”, Furuhashi whispered into Hanamiya’s ear, holding his urge to embrace him and never let him go, and keeping those thoughts aside while gently grasping his hair, as if it was the most fragile thing to ever be created. Because of their bodies’ contact, the bouquet had slightly wrinkled. And it had left a grin on Hanamiya’s face: one full of blissfulness, perhaps inusual on him, followed by stars on his eyes and angelic features which were rarely seen on him. Really, Hanamiya was beautiful.”_

For a moment, Hanamiya had been able to recognize him. But the name of “Kojiro” still didn’t resonate to him.

···

Giggling, he snatched the photo album from Hanamiya’s hands.

-So this was Hana-chan during middle school? - Hara couldn’t help but to stare at those round cheeks and that childish face. - You didn’t look like you wanted to, like, harm anybody. It must be the cheeks.

Hanamiya wasn’t someone that liked having books snatched from his hands. Specially if that book happened to be a photo album: _specially_ if it contained pictures of his younger self. Specially if it was Hara the one that snatched it and commented on those pictures, as if he had the right to. It would only get worse once Hara found a certain picture which Hanamiya had took with Imayoshi during those bittersweet middle school days. Hell, why had he even thought about that? Those were bad times.

But he wasn’t just angry because Hara was peeking at his photo albums without his permission, or because his mother had gone shopping all alone and, possibly, a bunch of reporters was chasing her. What had pissed him off the most was that Hara, who had previously told him that he would only spend about 10 minutes at his home, had now spent about half an hour gossiping about nonsense which Hanamiya barely cared about. Hara had initially stated that he wanted to talk about those high school anecdotes which Hanamiya already knew of; but once he’d spotted that photo album, it had been impossible for Hanamiya to decline his petition.

- _Kazuya_ \- using Hara’s name never meant something good, particularly if it was followed by one of Hanamiya’s soft smiles - You were just talking about the team and Furuhashi a moment ago. Would you kindly continue, please?

Before Hara turned the album’s page and found that picture, he closed the album and left it back in the shelves. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice his own life just to see a picture of Hanamiya and Imayoshi standing together, dressed as a warrior and his geisha. And when Hanamiya’s expression softened, he knew that it was time to continue.

-…Anyway, having Furu help you choose some plants really is a good idea. That guy knows a lot about the whole gardening stuff.

-Really? - His eyes turned towards Hara, who picked his smartphone. It was almost surprising how Hanamiya could switch from terrifying to quiet in just a few seconds.

-I myself think that gardening is fucking boring, but he makes it seem interesting. And I thought that his eyes were scary enough.

After Hara left his smartphone on Hanamiya’s desk, just above a pack of sheets, he scratched his hair, stepping towards Hanamiya’s bed, with the man staring at him as if he’d just made a fuss. Really, it had been long since he’d seen Hara behave like that, and he hoped that it was the last time. But it was a failure to hope, as there was no way Hara would ever stop being like that, even if he was 24.

Hanamiya clicked his tongue at him. It seemed like Hara had something else to tell him, but he simply ignored it, messaging one of his bandmates instead.

“And maybe gardening will become interesting to you too, Hana-chan.”

···

Pink roses and cherry blossoms. Those were the few flowers which Hanamiya had been able to choose by himself, just before Furuhashi arrived at that florist’s. A bad choice it had been, as the shop assistant had immediately recognized him; however, a wave of relief had run through his whole body after the shop assistant told him that he wouldn’t bother him. And, to say that Hanamiya had been surprised at his sudden statement wouldn’t be enough: he’d had to thank him. Wearing the same skinny black pants and the same flat sneakers as yesterday, the only notable change on Hanamiya’s outfit had been a big, white t-shirt which nearly reached his knees, showing a bird’s silhouette.

Unable to recall most of those flowers’ meanings, Hanamiya simply wandered around that shop, witnessing the many different types of plants and flowers that were displayed. Cacti had slightly caught his attention, since they were cheap and fairly easy to take care of, and he’d thought about buying them; until he recalled that he’d gone to that florist’s in order to look for a gift for his mother. Even though he’d already bought her a dress and some tickets for a spa, Hanamiya thought that it wasn’t enough. Hell, even right now he felt like a simple bouquet wouldn’t do enough. Still, his mother would have enough with a simple “happy birthday” coming from her son.

Holding some pink roses and small, pure-white cherry blossoms, Hanamiya made his way to the counter; he’d thought that having just two types of flowers would be enough. It was now when the shop assistant wanted to talk to him: he’d figured out that Hanamiya searched for some kind of birthday present for someone close to him. Surprisingly, Hanamiya had never learned about hanakotoba, nor had bothered to; something which Furuhashi had took advantage of during the past. And Furuhashi often liked to take advantage of the fact that, sometimes, Hanamiya easily got distracted.

Just like now.

-You should bring a bluebell too - he rested his hand on Hanamiya’s shoulder, slowly placing himself behind the man. - They symbolize gratitude, so they might be what you’re looking for.

A startled Hanamiya quickly turned to him while gasping, eyebrows raised and slightly widened eyes. His fingers had turned cold for a second: it seemed like Furuhashi had managed to scare him this time. Maybe he’d really intended to surprise Hanamiya; maybe Hanamiya had been too distracted thinking about that bouquet to even hear the door’s bell as Furuhashi opened it and stepped inside that shop. After a while, Hanamiya’s shoulders relaxed and so did his features.

Something else had took place just now.

-Eh, _Furuhashi_ \- he murmured.

The shop assistant stared, amazed, at someone that might have an even greater knowledge of flowers than his. Today, he wore a more formal outfit compared to yesterday’s: a plain, white shirt with a small pocket in which he’d kept his glasses, light-blue jeans and formal-looking black shoes. He’d also styled his hair with a tiny, barely noticeable ponytail, and he wanted to go back to his high school hairstyle.

Furuhashi wandered around the shop, looking for a certain flower which he’d found interesting.

-Honeysuckles would also make for a nice choice, as you’re perhaps trying to show thankfulness towards your mother.

Hanamiya only knew one person that had that much knowledge about flowers and gardening in general. A person that, many years ago, had given him a carefully-made bouquet and drawn a smile on his face at the same time, and that had sucessfully made Hanamiya know how being loved felt like. Someone with those same exact dead eyes, those dreadful features and that dull voice; there was only one person that could startle him like that.

Someone whoses name had just shown on Hanamiya’s mind, along a swarm of memories which he’d shared with that person. Someone who Hanamiya still was very fond of. For a split second, he felt the need to thank them; not only because of the flower suggestions, or the anecdotes, but because he had to. Yet it wasn’t the right moment to do so, as Hanamiya still had to buy that bouquet, and deep down he felt like he’d just embarrass himself by showing a bit of his good side, just like always.

So, when Furuhashi finally picked up those tiny, fuchsia-dyed honeysuckles, and placed them on the counter, besides the cherry blossoms, Hanamiya had fully recalled him. There were some details and small memories which still were scattered far away from him, but it wasn’t like Hanamiya had payed any attention to them, as having the name of “Kojiro” mean something to him was more than enough. He grabbed and opened his purse, hoping that he’d brought enough money to pay for everything now that he had to pay for more flowers, even though Furuhashi stated the day before that he’d be willing to pay for everything himself.

-As for the wrapping… - The shop assistant was still bewildered at those two.

-Light-turquoise, please.

Nodding, the shop assistant shyly picked up a small light-turquoise wrapping, and began arranging them together. It’d take a while, particularly because that bouquet had been requested by none other than Hanamiya Makoto, and the assistant didn’t want to let him down; specially because it was a gift for his mother, a woman who often visited that florist’s.

It was the same warmth as for yesterday, except that the sky showed a gradient of salmon pink and amber that would progressively turn orange as time passed. The sun hid behind a row of small buildings with navy-blue roofs, some of them which belonged to Hanamiya’s neighbourhood, who wasn’t that far away, and its lighting, along with the sky which surrounded that city, had delicately dyed that shop’s interior orange, as well as the men inside it. Same as the previous evening, except that this one’s tones had intensified regarding the others.

In order to kill time, Furuhashi got Hanamiya’s attention by patting his shoulder, thus startling him again. Hanamiya, now being a sarcastic 24-year old, still couldn’t predict when and how a former teammate of his would catch him off-guard. Now, Furuhashi didn’t intend to scare him, but to show him some pictures which he’d took the last day, when he baked some croissants for his family; before those pictures, Hanamiya didn’t know whether to just awkwardly grin and look at those pictures, or to stomp on Furuhashi’s feet, as if he wanted to scold him.

And, maybe, Hanamiya really wanted to scold him. Because Furuhashi had been nearly ten minutes late; minutes during which Hanamiya had just wandered around that shop, rather clumsily, waiting for the one that had stated that would arrive early. Another of Furuhashi’s habits.

···

To say that Furuhashi had been fascinated by that sunset wouldn’t be enough; the quickness with whom he’d picked his phone, just to take a picture of the sky, had been surprising. Hanamiya liked it too, but he quite preferred the bouquet which had just been given to him, and which he’d gift his mother as soon as he made it home; he’d thought about it being a much better gift than the dress and the spa tickets, as that bouquet did well in expressing how much he loved and respected his mother.

Hanamiya’s neighbourhood was small, and quiet, communicating the wards of Meguro and Setagaya. It was a nice place for somebody to go on a walk by, even though there wasn’t much to see, aside from a small park surrounded by sea figs and Hanamiya’s favorite ramen restaurant, as well as his home. Entirely made up of small houses with navy-blue roofs and some small shops and restaurants, as well as an arcade that was on the verge of closing, many stray cats seemed to wander around that place, and flocks would sometimes gather around those houses, often standing on post’s and their cables, watching over that neighbourhood. And Hanamiya, who had lived in that neighbourhood during his whole life, couldn’t imagine himself moving away from it; even school trips and training camps had managed to make him miss that home. He liked its simplicity.

And he also liked the bouquet which he’d been just given. On top of it, there lied a vast group of white, tiny cherry blossoms -which symbolized his mother’s kindness-, surrounded by pale pink roses -which he’d initially chose because they were pretty, upon knowing that “trust” and “happiness” were some of their meanings-, and fuchsia-dyed honeysuckles, not much bigger than the cherry blossoms, which symbolized the thankfulness which Hanamiya felt towards that woman. They all created a fascinating, white-to-fuchsia gradient, which both men quite liked, and the flowers’ stems were surrounded by a light-turquoise bow that slightly ruined the color scheme. It was kept on a small bag with the shop’s logo, which Hanamiya carried.

All which could’ve been heard was a flock’s cawing, the man’s steps and the bag’s shaking. Hanamiya instantly recalled that evening in which he thanked his mother after recalling her, and thought that, at that rate, their walk would have a similar ending, except that it would be Furuhashi the one to drag him into a long hug, melting Hanamiya’s body against his and not willing to let go. And, aside from this, Hanamiya wondered if Furuhashi had ever regretted using rough play, just like he’d done weeks ago.

Hanamiya had remained silent throughout their entire walk; Furuhashi had initially thought that, at some point, he would come up with a silly anecdote to talk about, such as that time when he baked pain-au-chocolat and macarons for the whole team after they won an important match, or that one when Seto played ukulele during one of their training camps. Maybe Hanamiya couldn’t come up with anything, or maybe he just wanted to enjoy the silence. Or perhaps he was just immersed on his thoughts, debating whether thanking Furuhashi would be a good idea or not. But the one that wanted to say “thanks” the most was Furuhashi himself: he didn’t know that, earlier, Hanamiya had recalled him and his name, and those moments which they’d spent together, so he’d thought that thanking him would be a good idea.

Even though Hanamiya showed a quiet stance, his fingertips had turned colder than ever. His breathing was slow, his exhales being longer than his inhales, and his steps were still, quite like Furuhashi’s, and each time he stepped, he found himself closer to his home. Furuhashi, too, was pleased with the bouquet which they’d both chose, and with that walk was well; so he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stop by a café and have some coffee with him, or to share a walk together by the city’s river, but he couldn’t. Not when there could be reporters wandering around and neither him nor Hanamiya wanted to get into trouble.

When they made it to the last corner before Hanamiya’s home, and their hands touched each other’s for a split second, the smaller man stopped walking, still holding the bag. Furuhashi thought that perhaps he’d done something; an immediate, involuntary reaction. But Hanamiya wouldn’t scold him, or anything else. It was the opposite.

-I truly can’t thank you enough for the bouquet - he grinned, fixing his gaze on Furuhashi’s. A “Kojiro” had nearly slipped from between his lips; hence that small pause at the end.

-There’s no need for you to thank me - just like the previous evening, Furuhashi couldn’t take his eyes off the small man in front of him, whoses figure had been bathed by golden and tangerine lights again. - But I think I should apologize for being late, since I’d nearly forgot that we were supposed to meet today.

“ _Unexpected_ ”. Chuckling at his own thoughts, Hanamiya stepped slightly closer to his home, with Furuhashi following him under the orange-dyed sky. Not a single cloud could be witnessed, and that evening seemed to be close to what “perfection” meant. As they witnessed the scenery in front of them, Hanamiya accidentally became immersed within his thoughts once again, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Not when Furuhashi had claimed that he didn’t need to thank him.

In front of Hanamiya’s home, they stopped walking. Hanamiya had never been the best at goodbyes, and Furuhashi was still rather clueless, since he’d faintly noticed that pause before, and didn’t know what it had meant. Before he spoke up, Hanamiya cackled quite loudly at Furuhashi’s bewilderment.

-Well - he cracked a smile, with his eyes still fixed on Furuhashi’s. - Thanks for all, _Kojiro_.

Time had stopped for Furuhashi after he’d heard his name come from Hanamiya’s lips, after all that time.

The next thing which Hanamiya knew was that Furuhashi had wrapped his arms around his shoulders and back, holding him as if he was the most precious being to exist. It’d been just like that one hug during their graduation, one which Furuhashi had wanted to avoid but couldn’t; it had been hard for him to avoid it. Hanamiya’s head rested on the taller man’s shoulder, with Furuhashi’s eyes looking upon him, and a golden-orange sky falling upon them, both men surrounded by it and the warmth of that evening. If something could symbolize the meaning of “perfection”, it should be that. Hanamiya’s worries vanished as his pale arms reached for Furuhashi’s back, grazing and wrinkling his shirt’s fabric; he could perfectly feel the coldness of Hanamiya’s fingers against his back and how they pressed against it.

Hanamiya wasn’t willing to let go, too. Because he was happy to be there, happy to be able to recognize Furuhashi again, to the point it had nearly made him tear up.

Their bodies seemed to be melting against each others’. Both of them remained quiet, to not ruin the moment, bathed by the sky’s colours and the sun’s lighting, and Hanamiya loved each second of it. Furuhashi’s warmth, the way in which he stroke his back and later, his hair; their hearts beating against each other, and each kiss which Furuhashi left against his hair and forehead. Hanamiya’s expression had softened, as well as Furuhashi’s; and, once again, Hanamiya had felt loved. So loved, that he couldn’t help but smile. And laugh. And let time pass by as Furuhashi embraced him, as proof of his affection.

Eventually, they withdrew their heads and bodies, and looked at each other, perhaps lovingly. Hanamiya’s smile didn’t seem to fade, which brought another one to Furuhashi’s face. His looked way smaller than Hanamiya’s grin, yet was noticeable.

-We’ll meet tomorrow, right? - Furuhashi stared at Hanamiya as if he was the most precious thing to him. Despite being 24 years old, his was the same behavior of a high schooler’s.

Hanamiya couldn’t but nod at him, almost wordless, with his eyes and figure bathed by the evening’s colours. He was thankful for having met Furuhashi, and the boys as well; and so, he waited for tomorrow unlike he’d waited for any other day before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why do i punish myself like this,, wish me good luck with my exams rip
> 
> I hope I got the hug scene right ;;.


	16. 幸福 (Happiness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys' meeting finally arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: I stayed up until nearly three in the fucking morning to finish a long-ass fic.

It was one of those long, cold days in which his mother would leave him alone because of her business. One which Hanamiya would have to spend alone, just like each time his mother had to travel due her job: except that, this time, she'd be gone for an entire week. However, it wasn't anything new, as it had happened few times before. Times which Hanamiya didn't want to remember.

Because of him running out of supplies, he'd stopped at a mart earlier to buy some food which he'd need. It took place little after that day's classes were over, and Hanamiya had chose a really bad route to begin with. A route heavily different from the one which he usually followed; much longer than his usual route, its only stop before Hanamiya's home being a petite park. And its only appealing feature, a basketball court.

Now, Hanamiya claimed to be no longer interested in basketball, specially now that he'd retired from the team. Deep inside, however, he wanted to play another match, it probably being the last one: no rough play, dirty schemes, or anything which Hanamiya's team had used throughout their former matches. A clean match, devoid of any harmful schemes. Hanamiya knew himself fairly well, and knew that inwardly, he wanted to have fun while playing basketball.

What he didn't know was that Capricorns had ranked 12th on Oha-Asa that day, and that sometimes, fate could be a jackass. That day was one of those.

Because, when Hanamiya saw the person standing in front of him, he nearly dropped his bags. It'd take him a while to get through, specially after witnessing the basketball which that person carried.

-It's just you, Yama - he frowned.

Yamazaki didn't seem any particularly surprised before him. He simply eyed his ex-captain and pouted at him, having found his greeting certainly rude, as if Hanamiya had tried to despise him.

But Yamazaki had already gotten used to it from their basketball days.

-Eh, captain-

-Cut it off, won't you? - Hanamiya's interruptions were as unpleasant as he was. - That shit's over now.

Despite this, he'd been right: there was no reason for Yamazaki to keep referring to him as "captain", as their basketball days were long gone by now.

Hanamiya couldn't help but wonder as to why Yamazaki happened to be wandering around the streets. There were barely three months of school left: three months which basically determined who would get to University and who wouldn't. And Hanamiya was well-aware of the fact that Yamazaki struggled like no one else throughout exam seasons. The redhead often ended up dropping by at Hanamiya's home, searching for his former captain's knowledge and his mother's amazing meals as well.

At first, Hanamiya didn't mind. But, as time had passed and exams had progressively gotten harder, his urge to tell Yamazaki that he should learn to study by himself had only gotten stronger. It hadn't been until that day that such urge grew enough for Hanamiya to be unable to hold it any longer.

-Anyway, Yama, shouldn't you be focusing on your exams? - His teeth quivered as he spoke, which drew a grin on Yamazaki's face. Somehow, he'd found it funny.

-I know, goddammit! - Yamazaki pouted, his grin vanishing - That's exactly why I'm doing this.

Hanamiya internally rolled his eyes. Really, sometimes Yamazaki's stupidness was too much. Not that he blamed him for it, but he'd found Yamazaki's reply certainly illogical: someone who struggled with exams as much as he did wouldn't and shouldn't be procrastinating by playing basketball. He'd obviously complain about his poor grades afterwards, with this parents -and Hanamiya- scolding him because of his bad time management.

Afterwards, Hanamiya sighed. He wasn't willing to lose his time with someone as hot-headed and enthusiast as Yamazaki, especially when it touched such a dumb topic like procrastination. _Especially_ when Yamazaki looked like he'd drag him into a match if he stayed there any longer.

-Just do whatever you want - he clicked his tongue on annoyance and gave Yamazaki a slightly hostile look, as if he was disappointed on the redhead. - You'll tell me once you fail your exams.

The atmosphere around them was cold. Incredibly cold. The kind of weather which Hanamiya simply hated: people often thought that he loved winter and cold weather more than anything, when he actually preferred summer over anything.

They've never had the best chemistry. Yamazaki frowned back at him, with a question that had never stopped pestering him, and which Hanamiya probably wouldn't respond to. Rather than a bet, it would be a risk, as Yamazaki himself wasn't so sure about it.

-Anyway, Hanamiya... - he tried to remain as stoic as he could. - There's something which I really wanted to ask.

-Go for it - Hanamiya's expression softened.

-You- Have you ever liked basketball?

Time froze as soon as Yamazaki asked him. From all of Yamazaki's choices, that one had been the dumbest yet. And Hanamiya's expression had been priceless: he looked stupefied, yet irritated at the same time. He didn't know whether to yell at Yamazaki or simply leaving that place. Hanamiya knew that, if he stayed there for any longer, he'd end up embarrassing himself.

The reason? He actually liked basketball. But, instead of just confessing out of the blue, he'd simply use a poorly-made excuse. After all, Yamazaki couldn't be smart enough to find out; or, at least, that's what Hanamiya had initially thought. That Yamazaki hadn't learned anything about him or his behavior.

However, after mere seconds of careful thinking, Hanamiya came up with the possibility that Yamazaki knew about those excuses. Specially after their last match, during which Hanamiya actually played seriously, instead of just relying on rough play and other dirty patterns.

-It was entertaining to say the least, but not truly satisfying.

Yamazaki could tell right away that Hanamiya had just lied to him. Just like he always did each time they spoke. During those three years in the team, he'd grown used to Hanamiya's lies and his cold, cruel pranks, as well as the team's alienating, suffocating feeling.

The Bad Boy's schemes and falsehoods were more than known to him.

-You know what I think?

-What? Yama, I seriously need to get home soon - Hanamiya felt like he would freeze on that same spot if they kept talking.

-I think that you truly like basketball, but the whole rough play thing sort of... brainwashed you? - Talking to Hanamiya had always been more of a challenge than anything, and Yamazaki felt like as if he already knew about the outcome. - I mean, remember our very last match?

A slightly pissed off Hanamiya rose an eyebrow. Such match would probably be impossible to forget; they played against the Emperors, Rakuzan themselves. A sudden confidence boost had made Hanamiya thought that they could, at least, end the match with a tie. Regardless, he'd thoroughly studied Rakuzan's playstyle, and developed a complex strategy which would've perfectly worked against them, if it hadn't been for a small miscalculation which he'd made.

Said miscalculation had been that Akashi Seijuurou already knew about the Spider's Web, as well as Hanamiya's other devices. And so, he'd dismantled all of them by the second quarter, during which Kirisaki Daiichi's score had been just two points behind of Rakuzan's.

After such an humiliation, one would've thought that Hanamiya would have given up. Except that he hadn't. Playing against Rakuzan had already been the greatest of opportunities which he'd ever gotten throughout his basketball career; and, while he would've usually relied in rough play, Hanamiya would've hated to ruin such a nice opportunity. That time had been one of the few ones in which the Kirisaki Daiichi team hadn't truly played dirty, and in which they'd looked like a true team, instead of a bunch of brats with a basketball.

There were many factors that had made that experience nearly unforgettable to Hanamiya. But the fact that he'd played until the end, and that he'd even enjoyed it, made it even hard to forget.

-Stop trying to make fun of me, Yama. We played like that because we were given a wonderful chance, that's-

-Goddammit, lemme break it down - the redhead frowned, dragging a small amount of attention towards himself. - We played against them, and things went wrong. And then you took basketball like an actual fucking sport and not a joke, and played seriously. And with a smile.

Hanamiya wasn't so sure about how to feel towards this, and Yamazaki hadn't lied at all; he'd truly played with a smile, as if he'd enjoyed the match. It had been the first time in which the spectators had witnessed a clean match starring the Bad Boy, and one of the few that he'd truly enjoyed, despite having ended nearly 20 points behind Rakuzan after all.

He doubted about whether to feel proud or disappointed on himself.

-Well, you're not wrong. Guess I did enjoy it after all. But - his expression turned serious; because of the cold, however, he could barely feel his fingers, which made him look annoyed -, what are you trying to prove with this?

The redhead sighed. All he wanted was Hanamiya to admit that he'd actually had fun playing basketball, no matter how long it took. It felt like as if Hanamiya knew that he'd had fun, but refused to acknowledge it for some reason only known to himself; perhaps because it would ruin his _bad boy_ image, or because he just didn't want to admit it.

Only known to Hanamiya, said reason had made Yamazaki attempt to use his intelligence. His was still years behind both Seto and Hanamiya's, and even studying his hardest didn't guarantee him good grades; but he knew about how secretive his former captain could be. He, and the other former third years, they all knew about Hanamiya's colder side: he wasn't someone who often tried to hide things from them, and it was often Furuhashi the one that found out about his secrets.

However, Furuhashi wasn't there. Yamazaki would be the one to find out the reason as why Hanamiya refused to admit that he liked basketball. To him, Hanamiya's personality and his intentions were almost like Mathematics: a goddamn riddle. That's why, after minutes and minutes of thinking and looking for a possible answer, Yamazaki felt like his brain had disconnected. All the thoughts and theories which he'd been gathering were suddenly gone, and he was left with nothing but a short sentence which barely made any sense.

-I... don't fucking know. That you like basketball? - he took a deep breath afterwards, in order to avoid punching Hanamiya in the face. - Don't know about you, but-

After Hanamiya witnessed a small, nearly-invisible snowflake fall from the sky, he knew it was time to go. Specially after having seen Yamazaki behave like that.

-I seriously gotta head home, Yama. And you should too - he began walking towards his home, slowly leaving Yamazaki behind. - You'll get a cold.

It wasn't the first time Hanamiya had told one of his -former- teammates that he would get a cold.

And Yamazaki couldn't possibly count every time Hanamiya had said something alike during their basketball days. As a coach, he obviously had to worry about the team, and not just about their physical parameters or how they performed at matches; he'd also done many things which had been incredibly helpful, such as having them leave practice earlier during exams, or even telling Hara that he shouldn't force himself to attend practice if he couldn't bring himself to because of his mental state.

During his basketball days, Hanamiya had been known as the "Bad Boy" -or simply, as an _asshole_ -; as a player whoses name was more than enough to bring misfortune and dread to whoever the rival team was. Towards his team, he still behaved like a bad boy, but took his role as a coach quite seriously, sometimes too much.

After Yamazaki snapped out of his thoughts, he quickly realized the mistake which he'd made.

-H-Hey, dude, wait! - he tried to reach for Hanamiya, but it was too late. The cold stopped him from doing so, and he wondered whether a bunch of yells would do. - We'll play basketball again, right!?

Surprisingly, Yamazaki's screaming reached Hanamiya's ears. At first, he acted like he hadn't heard anything, as he'd already lost interest in basketball and he highly doubted whether he would play again.

But Yamazaki's words had managed to lit a small flame inside him. Hanamiya was well aware that, after 5 years or so, one of his former teammates would knock on his door, holding a basketball, and would drag him to a court nearby his home in order to have a well-deserved match. He'd meet his former teammates again, comment on how much they had changed, and enjoy a short yet intense match afterwards.

Hanamiya knew this well, and that was why, instead of just ignoring Yamazaki's words, he smiled. Because he too loved basketball.

He felt like those five years would pass by in the blink of an eye.

···

"Having sold more than two million copies in just one year, 'Wonder'-"

Hanamiya turned the TV off as soon as he heard those words. Ever since he'd published that novel, all the news said the same: they spoke about how young he'd been when "Wonder" had been first published, and all of them played the same five interviews which he'd given so far. Afterwards, some lame gossipy program would speak about how, despite being 21 years old and owning an impressive wealth, he still lived with his mother.

And he couldn't really blame her, since she'd been the one to have "Wonder" published on the first place. Sometimes, Hanamiya had wished that he could've told her that it had been a bad choice, as he hadn't been ready for the nightmare that would mean being famous. But he just couldn't bring himself to: he couldn't complain to his mother, nor he could move to a bigger and wealthier home and leave her alone, after he'd promised himself that he'd take care of her after graduating from high school. Even if she was alright with him moving away and sending money periodically, Hanamiya himself would feel guilty if he ever moved to another place.

Being a decent son sometimes sucked, but that was the price which he had to pay in order to make his mother happy. At least, that's what he believed.

He looked around their living room. In the very center, there was a kotatsu which had been there ever since his family moved there, with the same marine blue futon that Hanamiya had grown used to. Nothing in that room seemed to be particularly important, aside from a small kakemono with an ikebana display placed above it on the toko, and the garden outside. Hanamiya's drafts and his many wasted pens were scattered all over the floor; but surprisingly, he found himself rather tired to pick them up, since he'd spent the whole previous day running away from a group of paparazzi that longed for yet another interview.

Snapping his neck, he let out a long yawn and left the TV remote on the kotatsu. He wanted to take a short break from writing and just help at home and think about what could be his next book, but doubter whether his publisher would let him. TV had also become incredibly boring after both him and Hara -who now played on a band- rose to fame: the only interesting show nowadays was one which he used to watch a lot with Furuhashi.

After he yawned once again, his mother joined the living room, carrying a magazine with herself. She gave Hanamiya a serene look and walked up to him, without sitting besides him.

-No wonder why you're tired. You spent a whole evening running away from journalists. Here - she handed the magazine to Hanamiya, who showed an unintested look. - Your old friend, Kazuya-kun, recently gave an interview, and I thought that you might be interested.

However, Hanamiya wasn't any interested to begin with. He reluctantly looked for said interview as his mother went back to the kitchen, to fill a watering can and search for more gardening-related supplies.

The way in which Hara handled interviews was, surprisingly, mature. For someone like him, who had even played pranks on his teachers during high school, he hadn't been joking around during that interview. Except for one question, in which he had to talk about a certain song and what had inspired it. He spoke about his former teammates, especially Hanamiya, mentioning that the man's stubborness and his subtle _tsundere_ -ness had inspired a good part of it. For a moment, Hanamiya wondered if it had been because of the way in which he'd acted towards him during high school.

-He's still kind of immature, if you ask me. Last night he literally sent me 20 consecutive texts speaking about how much he and Yama wanted to meet up and play basketball.

Those texts had also managed to bring back a not-so fond memory from high school. That one in which Hanamiya nearly froze in the middle of the street because Yamazaki tried to outsmart him.

-And would you? - his mother stepped towards the courtyard, carrying the watering can and some daffodil seeds.

Hanamiya sat back on the zabuton, closing the magazine and leaving it alongside the TV remote on the kotatsu. Afterwards, he sighed, stretching his arms.

-Actually, we made some kind of promise claiming that we wouldn't do so before five years had passed - he couldn't believe that he was lying to his mother once again. - I'd like to set something up, but Kentaro and Kojiro are kind of busy with University, and Kazuya's either touring or recording songs or some shit.

Four years ago, when Hanamiya was 17, his mother would've complained about his coarse language and even scolded him, despite knowing that it was the very embodiment of his personality.

Now that he'd grown into an adult, despite still looking like a middle schooler, his mother allowed him to do anything which he couldn't at high school, which included drinking. With the exception that he'd restricted himself to swearing: he wasn't any interested in partying, and the mere thought of drinking made him slightly afraid of even trying.  
It was even funny to think that Hanamiya had once been a highly-feared athlete.

-What about the red-haired guy?

-Eh, Yama? - Hanamiya clicked his tongue. - That guy's always available.

-Then, you two could meet up someday and play against each other. Don't you think?

Hanamiya wasn't so sure about that. Particularly because those two really didn't get along, and Yamazaki would definitely attempt to trick Hanamiya into lending him some money, or something alike. On the other side, he just didn't want to. And waiting another two years in order to meet and have a few matches wouldn't hurt at all. The only thing which Hanamiya had to worry about was the fact that Yamazaki could punch one of the journalists if they dared to follow and spy on them.

-Uh, yeah, it would be a good idea - Hanamiya faintly replied as he rose from the floor.

There was one thing which he couldn't deny, though; he hated lying to his mother. He'd had more than enough with the entire rough play fiasco, which he'd been hiding from her for nearly ten years now. Sometimes he wondered whether one of his former teammates had mentioned anything regarding it, exposing one of the basketball club's best hidden secrets at the same time. Hanamiya could only think about either Hara or Yamazaki revealing it, without saying too much about his involvement.

Furuhashi and Seto were perhaps too flamboyant for it, although Furuhashi might've hinted something at some point. In Hanamiya's case, however, he was simply a coward. Because, not only could he bear with the thought of telling his mother; her possible reaction might as well break him in the inside. After years and years of being the perfect son, to finally confess all the atrocities which he'd made would be something other than masochism or a punishment. Really, Hanamiya wished that he could tell her, just to soothen his guilt; but thinking about the outcome ruined any opportunity which he had.

In order to silence those thoughts, he made his way towards the garden. His expression had suddenly changed to a more unruffled one, so his mother wouldn't ask him about why he'd been so silent before.

···

His room, bathed by the sunlight outside and the sparrows' chirping, had been tidied by his mother while he slept. It wasn't until he'd grown fully tired of the sparrow's songs that Hanamiya finally woke up, asking himself if he'd overslept. His mother had thought about waking him up before, to make sure that he'd have enough time to get ready, but dismissed said thought after witnessing his sleep. Plus, waking him up would've been rude, even with her being his mother.

However, by having let him sleep, she'd made a small mistake. The boys' get-together supposedly took place at 10:30AM that day, and Hanamiya had woken up at nearly 10AM. He'd initially ignored this, as he'd thought that the meeting didn't start until 11AM; when he woke up, though, he quickly snapped out of his mind after he'd recalled the actual time. Luckily, the meeting place was close home, so he had enough time to have breakfast and get dressed.

And, perhaps, to share a small talk with his mother in the meantime.

As he walked down the stairs, Hanamiya heard some voices coming from the living room. It was his mother, who had gotten a very peculiar call after she'd finished cleaning up. Hanamiya stopped for a moment before heading to the room, just to listen.

-...Yes, Makoto's been doing really good lately. He recalled me little ago, and I think he recalled one of his friends too. He also attended an interview earlier last month, and today it seems like he's going to meet up with his former teammates.

For a moment, Hanamiya thought that she was talking to his father. He immediately rejected that idea, though, as they hadn't spoken to each other for nearly fifteen years, and there was no actual reason for them to talk anymore. Hanamiya had assumed that his father had stopped caring about their well-being, when the truth was much different than he'd thought it to be.

-I highly doubt it, since I don't think Makoto would really like to see you... I mean, it's true that you haven't met for a while, but that's the exact reason as why Makoto would despise it - she turned for a moment, and, as soon as she witnessed Hanamiya heading towards the room, she knew it was time to hang up. - Also, Makoto wouldn't probably want to talk to you. That's how he is. I hope you can excuse him.

She left her phone back on the table as Hanamiya stepped in, with a nonchalant look on his face. It seemed like he hadn't put that much effort on his outfit; a white shirt and skinny black pants didn't look that bad together, though. He sat in front of the kotatsu, where a glass of milk, a rice bowl with natto and kusaya awaited for him. The perfect breakfast for what could be the perfect day.

Hanamiya still could hear the conversation which his mother had had before. He'd been wrong: she had truly spoken to his father, the man which neither of them had supposedly met on fifteen years. In any moment she had sounded like was still angry at him; in fact, it had been a really quiet conversation, in which she'd basically told her former husband about Hanamiya's improvement.

What Hanamiya didn't know was that it hadn't been the first time they had spoken after their divorce. Just like he'd hidden rough play from her, she'd been hiding those conversations from him: except that Hanamiya could've noticed at any moment. As he had breakfast, he wondered about how he hadn't noticed any of this, and eventually found the answer. He'd never really cared about his mother's conversations with her friends or relatives, not even when they had anything to do with him. The few times which he'd bothered to, he would ask his mother about whoever she'd been talking to, even though it truly didn't matter to him.

For some reason, it had made him happy, despite him not caring about his father anymore.

-Makoto - she sat down in front of him, resting her arms on the kotatsu's surface -, remember to take your phone with you-

-I know, mum. You're gonna say that I might get lost or that some weird journalist could follow me, right? - Hanamiya drew the rice bowl closer to him. The kusaya's smell was all over the room, and he'd found it quite repulsive, still nothing like the hospital's food. - I'm already aware of this, mama. Plus, Kojiro and the others will watch over me and all that crap. There's nothing to worry about.

-If you say so - she chuckled. - Will you be doing anything after the match?

-You know I'm not that fond of parties, mum.

-Alright. But you're free to arrive a little late if you want.

Hanamiya wasn't so sure about that.

···

Unlike summer, fall wasn't a boring season, nor it felt boring at any moment. In fact, it had always been one of Hanamiya's favorites, perhaps because he liked seeing as the leaves slowly turned yellow, or simply because he felt more productive during fall.

That day, after a promise that had lasted far more than five years, he would play basketball against his teammates once again, on a match that wouldn't know the meaning of rough play.

It was the very same park which Hanamiya had visited alongside Hara and Yamazaki about a month ago: the one located next to Kirisaki Daiichi. The one with all the azaleas and the erica, with the hidden hydrangeas and clovers, and the giant buildings behind it; the one with the now abandoned basketball court under all those trees, with soft gusts of wind rocking their leaves, and some of them falling on the ground. There was also a pamphlet on the floor, apparently from Kirisaki Daiichi's newest basketball team, in which three names had been written, one being Hara's smaller brother's.

Surprisingly, Hanamiya hadn't been the first one to arrive there. It had been Hara, who, out of excitement, had woken up at 8AM just to arrive earlier than anybody, even Hanamiya himself.

The black haired man leaned against one of the backboards, reading some messages from his little brother, who had apparently become their team's captain. Hara's urge to drop by at their gym only increased, even willing to ask Hanamiya to do so. On the other side, however, he didn't want to ruin their upcoming get-together.

Wearing one of his infamous baggy sweaters, skinny black pants and monotone, flat trainers, he waved at Hanamiya as the smaller man made his way towards the court, looking around as if he'd never been there before. As much as he looked at its cream-coloured walls, the slightly worn-out hoops, and all the trees that surrounded the court, almost hiding it from the sky, Hanamiya still couldn't remember anything about it. Neither the matches which he'd played against the boys years ago, nor each time his mother had brought him there in the past.

-Yo - Hara waved, carrying a well-known silly grin as bright as the Sun. Hanamiya didn't seem to care, as he simply walked by and placed himself besides him. - Know something about the others?

-Well, Kojiro has to pick up his sister from a sleepover or something, so he'll obviously arrive late. But I don't know about the others, though - Hanamiya's voice gradually dropped as he finished. He then unconsciously peeked at Hara's phone, witnessing some of his ongoing conversation. - Isn't that your brother?

-Yeah. He's now his team's captain, and he's really damn delighted about it. Also, Hana-chan - Hara turned to said man, who looked back at him with a slightly discontented expression, frowning -, you know where he's studying?

A gust of wind slowly ran across the court, swaying the tree's leaves and both men's hair and clothes as well. It made several leaves fall of the trees, gently dancing as they reached the floor, with more sunlight gradually filtering through the gaps inbetween the leaves, hardly lightening the court; it remained as dull as before.

Hanamiya looked away; he couldn't remember small details like that one which Hara had mentioned. Just like other many small details, it had vanished like nothing.

-Kirisaki Daiichi - Hara confidently said. - He's studying where we once studied, and he's in the basketball team too.

 _Kirisaki Daiichi_.

Hanamiya still hadn't recalled his old school's name. But the doctor had made it clear months ago: he wouldn't be able to recall everything which he'd forgotten after the accident. Even if he'd already recalled the most basic things, Hanamiya couldn't recall everything.

Which meant that Hanamiya had possibly forgotten about his old school and each single experience that he'd lived back then.

-I see. So, I guess you must be really proud of him.

All of a sudden, Hara's grin faded.

-Just having him pass the exams was a pain in the ass. I mean, you'd be expecting him to just stick there because, well... My family's rich, and I'm rich as well. But-

-Is Kirisaki Daiichi perhaps a rich school? - Hanamiya asked out of the blue, shifting his eyes towards Hara once again.

-Well, I honestly think rich isn't enough to describe it. Rather than rich, Kirisaki Daiichi's loaded as fuck - he chuckled, and his grin quickly returned.- You can also get there if you've got brains, which is why they let you enter. But, you know, Hana-chan, I wonder...

"Stop calling me that", Hanamiya thought to himself, looking away from Hara once again.

-If Secchan was loaded and smart as fuck too, then how did he really enter? - Hara looked at the sky, his eyes being slightly visible, unaware of the slim man that was walking towads them. - Like, he sure got a nice mark on the exam, but you know the thing with his family-

-It was because I scored a perfect hundred on the exam - a man coughed, exhaling a disturbing amount of smoke, which Hara tried to avoid by flapping his hands at it, mildly annoyed. - At the end of the day, you can't just stick to money.

As he made his way towards the backboard, Seto carelessly flickered a cigarette between his fingers, its ashes languidly falling to the ground. Both Hara and Hanamiya hated its rotten, nauseous smell; it faintly reminded Hanamiya of his neighborhood's, except that there weren't any clouds in the sky nor it had a damp feeling this time.

Seto dressed rather casually for the kind of person he was, wearing a solid white shirt, jeans and brown shoes, with his hair slicked back as usual and a thin strand of hair dropping near his spot. He held a small, nearly worn out cigarette inbetween his index and middle fingers, and his build remained as skinny as ever. Seto looked at both men in front of him with a rather apathetic look on his eyes, as if he wasn't that interested in their upcoming match, or in their meeting overall.

For Hara, he hadn't changed at all; he still looked way older his actual age. Hanamiya, however, had something which he wanted to complain about, and it didn't have anything to do with Seto's appearance. Lowering his eyes towards Seto's hand, he showed a slight amount of concern.

-To be blunt, you're just ruining yourself by doing that - Hanamiya complaining, quickly snatching Seto's cigarette and throwing it on the floor, coughing afterwards. - You better stop this shit soon, Kentaro.

-I've already told you that I can handle this - Seto didn't seem any affected by how Hanamiya had just behaved.

-Yeah, and one day you'll end up smoking about two boxes per day - Hanamiya crudely replied, scowling at Seto. - I don't even want to know how you haven't developed any weird lung disease yet.

-Dude, Hana-chan - Hara growled, moving aside from the backboard -, stop acting like a mother. It's fucking annoying.

Turning towards him, Hanamiya now scowled at Hara, rather angrily, as if worrying about an old friend's health and well-being was something bad. One of the most surprising facts about it was that Hanamiya wasn't the caring type, nor someone who could easily empathize with people.

Given his previous experience as a coach, however, even Hara could understand why he'd behaved like that.

···

After a couple minutes, Furuhashi finally arrived, surprisingly apologizing for supposedly having arrived late. None of the men had seemed to mind, though. Hara's phone now marked close to 10:30AM, and he could feel how the temperature gradually increased as minutes passed.

The Sun still filtered through the tree's leaves, which Furuhashi had identified as _ficus superba_ , as soft gusts of wind gently swayed its leaves. That one pamphlet on the floor was now gone, seemingly having left with one of the gusts before. It had barely changed, the scenery around them; whereas for Hara, who could perceive things better than other people, it felt like the court had brightened up a little. Some people had also arrived at the park, most of them being children with their respective relatives: and, for Hara, a bunch of adults like themselves really didn't fit there.

He sat near one of the walls, watching as the other men spoke between each other, often referencing a school which Hanamiya wouldn't probably remember, no matter how much its name got mentioned. But what Hara truly worried about was the fact that Yamazaki could've possibly overslept.

Suddenly, Hara thought that sending Yamazaki countless messages about it would be a good choice. And that's what he did, adding as many kaomoji and using the worst grammar he could, until a certain person tapped his head with their fingers, creating some sort of rhythm which Hara could easily recognize.

-Just so you know, y-your latest song was fucking amazing - he stood up, showing an awkward grin. - I seriously can't wait for your next album, man.

Hara quickly raised his head at him, witnessing those well-known green eyes and a charming smile which he couldn't quite forget.

It was Yamazaki, the one that had been excited the most about their upcoming match. He'd obviously brought a baskeball with him, and, unconsciously, dressed up with the team's old uniform, which he'd surprisingly been able to keep with himself throughout those five years. Many people, including Hanamiya himself, had given him strange looks, with the latter even laughing at him.

-I thought you'd fell asleep - he smirked, having Yamazaki help him raise from the ground.

-You're kind of right... - the redhead lowered his gaze. - I streamed for five consecutive hours yesterday and I passed out, so I thought I wouldn't make it.

-And why would you play games for so long? - Hara eyed Yamazaki's face, taking a closer look at both his freckles and bags. - That's not healthy, man.

-Yeah, but that's what I've gotta do.

Suddenly, Hanamiya turned to him, gazing at him with such sharp eyes that it looked like he could cut through air. Yamazaki didn't know the reason to this, but eventually figured out that Hanamiya might've wanted to catch his attention.

And he'd done, having the redhead quickly turn back to him, his green eyes widened and him showing a surprised, slightly altered stance overall. Their gazes collided with each other's; Hanamiya's was cold and sharp, seemingly seeking for warmth, while Yamazaki's gaze froze upon witnessing Hanamiya's. He wished that Hanamiya wouldn't scowl at him like he'd done with Hara before.

It had reminded Yamazaki of their main purpose there, which didn't have anything to do with Hanamiya's lost memories.

-I, uh, forgot - Yamazaki stuttered, gesticulating with both hands, his fingers feebly trembling as he did. - So, I've thought that after playing a couple matches, we could, you know, eat somewhere. I mean, this is supposed to be a meeting after all.

Hara nodded at him, rather shyly. True was that they'd picked a nice day for their meeting, but Hara's band also happened to be recording an album at the same time. Hara really hated the thought of leaving them halfway through their get-together; at the same time, however, he couldn't ignore his band like that, even though it was most likely they wouldn't mind.

-Zaki, you see-

-You still have to record that album? Don't worry about that - Yamazaki reassured him, now holding the ball with both hands. - We don't have to hang out the entire day. I-I mean, just playing basketball is enough for me.

Such comment managed to comfort Hara enough to focus on their upcoming match. But there still was something which they hadn't discussed yet, and which Hara had noticed earlier than any of them.

The group of men looked incredibly imposing to him. Hara had even thought about having Yamazaki tell them instead of himself, despite him being used to playing live in front of thousands of people; he was simply afraid of however Hanamiya could react before those words.

But Hara knew that he couldn't keep hiding his anxiety like that.

-Uh, g-guys - he stuttered, showing himself in front of Hanamiya and the others, who gave him condescending looks. - You've probably noticed this but... We're five people playing a match. It isn't logical.

-You're right, Kazuya - Hanamiya replied, raising his eyebrows -, but calling my senpai wouldn't make much sense either. It's supposed to be our meeting, after all.

-Makoto, you owe him a match - Seto remarked, dragging the smaller man's attention towards himself. Hanamiya then turned to him, rather upset.

-I know, but I can play against him whenever - he frowned. - It doesn't have to be right now.

-But it would certainly be interesting seeing you play against him.

-Yeah, Secchan's right - Hara's grin widened as he patted Seto's shoulder. - It'd be scary, though. I mean, your senpai's creepy as fuck and you're, well...

Hanamiya bent an eyebrow at him, still upset at his friend's comments, particularly at Hara's. Their words still managed to make him lit a smile, despite Hanamiya having forgotten the reason behind their sudden meeting.

-Kazuya, please tell me what I am - Hanamiya smirked, with Hara lowering his head and joining his fingers together upon his words.

-D-Disturbing - he replied, on a croaky voice. - You can be really disturbing sometimes, Hana-chan.

Surprisingly, Hanamiya didn't get angry at Hara this time. Instead, he just laughed it off, his cackles drawing a smile in each of his friends' faces. Even Furuhashi, who would've usually ignored something like that, couldn't help but chuckle at Hanamiya's sudden laughing fit.

Furuhashi loved seeing Hanamiya behave like that; he'd even missed it.

-Back to the topic, I don't really have anything against Imayoshi-san joining us, but as I've said before, it would be illogical - he paused. His friend's smiles had softened, them showing relaxed expressions. With the very exception of Hara, who kept grinning. - Anyway, wasn't there another guy on our team?

-Matsumoto? - Yamazaki checked his phone. - Apparently, he's moved to, uh, Europe.

The only man who had found himself surprised had been Hara, who hadn't been expecting such a thing to happen. Perhaps because he'd ignored Matsumoto throughout the whole school year, just clinging to Yamazaki and occasionally to Seto whenever he had exams.

-Europe? Mattsun? - Hara chuckled, holding his inner urge to blame himself. - What a l-lucky bastard...

Yamazaki had also been shocked by Matsumoto's success, often comparing his poor streaming career with Matsumoto's prosperous translating one. And not only that, but he also had to bear with the weight of not being as successfull as his former teammates. Of course, he'd gotten over it as years went by; however, Yamazaki still felt incredibly disappointed on himself, often mentally beating himself up for not having been able to live up his father's expectations.

When both him and Hara found themselves spacing out, Hanamiya thought to himself for a moment. To cheer them up or not was his own choice. Nor that Hanamiya was the most apathetic person on Earth, which he wasn't, but even he knew when his friends were feeling down. Nevertheless, he couldn't do anything most of the time, aside from poorly made-up compliments.

However, he lifted a weight off himself when Furuhashi stepped in front of them, with the same dead eyes as usual.

-This is supposed to be a meeting. Keep all your self-hatred to yourselves until it's over, please.

Hara would've loved to answer Furuhashi back and explain that it's not something which he could control, but he had to admit that Furuhashi had been right. Now that he finally had a chance to relax and meet up with his teammates, he wouldn't just throw it away because of a depressive episode's leftovers.

Still, Yamazaki complained about Furuhashi's tone, addressing how that last "thanks" had sounded slighty ironic, and how not all of them had been successful and had attended University like him.

Hanamiya enjoyed every second of it.

···

And so, the match finally arrived.

Surprisingly, Imayoshi hadn't shown up at any moment, as he had to deal with a fairly important project at the moment; which didn't stop him from sending consecutive texts to Hanamiya speaking about how busy he was. Hanamiya just ignored them, glancing over at them as the other men spoke about the match's set-up.

After a while, Yamazaki stepped towards him, still holding the basketball between his hands, as if it had been glued to them. The other men finished stretching as he spoke.

-So, it's gonna be like this - the redhead touched his chin, not bothering to make any eye contact with Hanamiya. - You'll play with Hara, and I'll team up with Furuhashi and Seto.

-You mean Kentaro won't play unless you tell him to?

-Yeah, just like you two did in high school - Yamazaki stopped talking for a moment upon Hanamiya's confused expression. It seemed like he'd also forgotten about the infamous Spider's Web. - ...Anyway, it'll be like an average match. We'll play for about an hour, and we'll rest, and whoever has scored the most points by the end wins.

Hara stopped stretching his legs to check his phone. It marked exactly 11 in the morning, and he left his phone on the floor, alongside Furuhashi's jacket. The temperature had also seemed to rise a little.

Aside from Yamazaki, Hara had also been playing basketball during his free time, often attending his smaller brother's matches and coaching him and his team whenever he could. The few free time he had, he would spend it either improving his drumming skills or just playing basketball and enjoying his free time.

Knowing that he finally got to play with his former teammates, after nearly six years, made him incredibly happy on the inside. Like Hanamiya would say, he smiled like an idiot.

-Hana-chan - Hara grinned, taking off his sweater only to reveal his former basketball uniform, which made Hanamiya twitch an eye -, we'll kick their asses, right?

-Eh, yeah - he smirked, unsure of himself.

Despite each time he'd had Yamazaki teach him about diverse plays, such as lay-outs and guarding, Hanamiya still had no _damn_ idea on how to play basketball without either distracting himself or stumbling. Hanamiya, of course, could dribble and shoot, even making three pointers if he was lucky, and he'd recently recalled his Teardrop Shot. But when it came down to more complex plays, he had no idea.

It was even worse knowing that Furuhashi and Seto could pull off their own version of the Spider's Web at any moment, and that Yamazaki's three pointers had severely improved throughout the years. At least Hara was by his side, and luckily, he still knew how to rebound.

···

The first ten minutes had been awful, to say the least.

Because of him not having stretched properly, and the few times which he'd gotten to play basketball since high school, had ruined Hanamiya's performance. Fortunately, Hara had been there to make some rebounds which had gotten them some essential points, but they still ended almost ten points behind Yamazaki's team.

Upon witnessing Hanamiya's early performance, Yamazaki had thought about softening up his own, even letting him score freely if he wanted. He knew, however, that Hanamiya wouldn't have liked it, and would've even complained. So Yamazaki eventually chose to not go easy on them, being the one to hold the ball for the longest amout of time. Furuhashi did his best too, although his shape had also worsened as time went by.

The first quarter ended with a failed three-pointer from Hara, who didn't notice that his form had been off until the ball bounced on the hoop.

Afterwards, the second quarter began with yet another three-pointer from Hara, whom had successfully stolen the ball from Yamazaki at the very start. The redhead hadn't noticed at all, breathlessly watching as Hara dribbled towards their hoop. Hara's speed hadn't decreased at all; in fact, to Yamazaki it seemed like he'd gotten faster.

By then, their match had turned into a show-off between Hara and Yamazaki, the ones who still were any experienced at basketball. All which Hanamiya and Furuhashi could do was to watch, while Seto analyzed each one of their plays. Their Spider's Web wasn't as good as Hanamiya's, though, but Furuhashi hoped that they'd be able to pull something off.

At one point of the match, Hanamiya attempted to score using his Teardrop Shot, only to be blocked by Yamazaki, who replied by shooting a three-pointer far away from the three-point line. The shot made it, giving Yamazaki's team a fifteen-point advantage over Hanamiya's. It didn't seem like Hanamiya cared, though.

Hanamiya didn't care simply because he already knew that Yamazaki's team would be victorious. He didn't care because they were supposed to be having fun.

The rest of the boys noticed this during the break inbetween quarters, witnessing Hanamiya's smile as he tied his trainers. It was different from those starving, sharp smirks which he'd often shown during their high school days, and which had often defined his sadistic persona.

Hanamiya was glad to be there, playing basketball with those people.

...But he also didn't like the fact that he was losing against Yamazaki. Hanamiya could lose to anybody, even to Imayoshi, and he would most likely not care, or care a little. Yamazaki, however, was different, as Hanamiya still kept a superiority complex towards him, sometimes even pointing out his cluelessness without noticing.

That's why, after their third quarter began, Hanamiya quickly stole the ball from Yamazaki's hands and went straight for a layup shot, which successfully made it. Furuhashi, who'd been close to their hoop, had also been unable to block Hanamiya, due to him having outsped him. Hanamiya's team was still thirteen points behind, though, and it didn't seem like they would ever catch up with Yamazaki's.

Especially after Yamazaki got replaced by Seto. Hanamiya didn't know about Seto and Furuhashi's Spider's Web, which they'd been working in for a short while.

However, their version of the Spider's Web didn't turn out to be as successful as they'd thought it would be. Given the fact that Seto played on Yamazaki's team, Hanamiya had deduced that they would be doing something unusual. Hanamiya himself would've done the same if Seto had been on his team, though.

At the end of the third quarter, despite how hard Hanamiya and Hara had tried to close the gap, they still were ten points behind Yamazaki's team. Such a gap wouldn't be easily closed, especially considering the fact that most of Hanamiya and Hara's three-pointers failed.

-How come he's still so passionate about baskeball? - Hanamiya gasped, wiping sweat off his forehead with his hand.

-Well - Hara smiled as he tied his bangs on a small ponytail, his eyes now visible - Zaki loves basketball more than anybody. And he always has a big chunk of time to play. So it's no wonder that he's being so ruthless.

Hanamiya scowled, grinning and catching his breath as he awaited for the fourth quarter to begin.

And, like the first one, the fourth quarter ended up being disappointing, since Yamazaki literally got the ball rolling at the very start, scoring a three-pointer. Hara felt like it would be the same as their Rakuzan match; no matter how hard they tried and how motivated Hanamiya got, they would still end with a twenty-point difference. A large gap which would be impossible to close, at least to Hanamiya.

Seto watched them from one of the walls, his sleepy eyes following the basketball as it traveled from one side of the court to the other one. He already knew about each of the men's schemes and how they would handle the rest of the match. And, despite already knowing how the match would end, Seto still had a bit of faith left in Hanamiya's team. Even if they couldn't close the gap at all, they still could reduce it enough so they didn't end up embarrassing themselves.

But they couldn't. The fourth quarter still ended with a gap of nearly thirty points between the two teams, and Yamazaki's team won with 112 points over Hanamiya's 88.

Despite all of this, Hanamiya hadn't been disappointed, nor he'd been pissed off at the result. One would've thought that he'd throw a tantrum as soon as he found out that he'd lost against Yamazaki, but he didn't. Hanamiya managed to keep his cold-headedness throughout the whole quarter, passing whether it was needed and thorougly making the best choices as the match concluded.

He just gave the men a smile, holding the basketball between his hands as he thanked them for that match, unaware of the fact that he'd lost a bet.

···

After an exhausting match which had left Hanamiya half-dead, and a charming walk throughout most of the town which had helped him calm down, both Hara and Yamazaki thought that the best way to end their meeting would be by eating together. Hara also mentioned that, despite him leaving right after their upcoming meal, he'd like the men to meet up that evening too, to which they all disagreed with. Not that they disliked Hara, but their main reason to meet up had been a simple basketball match; they weren't supposed to be eating together.

The pork's smell was all over the place, slowly blending with the rotten scent of the smoke that came from someone's cigarettes. Old songs played in the background, being interrupted by the people and chef's blather. There weren't that many people that day, only themselves, a group of students and the same chefs and waiters as usual, and so the atmosphere wasn't as lively as usual. But for people like Hanamiya, it was better that way.

Those who had once been a terrifying basketball team and frequented that restaurant, suddenly found themselves back at Tonki, by Yamazaki's request. The same Yamazaki who had forgot to tell them about the bet.

-We have to - Hara smirked, playing with his hair in order to avoid his incoming anxiety - _pay_?

Furuhashi silently nodded at them, chewing on his tonkatsu. Deep inside, he wanted to laugh at them, since they'd had no clue about that bet.

-You lost the match, so you gotta pay - Seto spoke, grabbing his glass of juice, half-closed eyes peeking at the man next to him. - Didn't Hiroshi tell you?

-Dude, Zaki said nothing! - he rose his voice, frowning at Yamazaki, who sat right next to him.

That Yamazaki hadn't mentioned anything about the bet hadn't been any surprising, not even to himself. While he claimed that he'd forgotten about it, the truth was that he wanted to see that look in Hara and Hanamiya's faces, especially on the latter one. Yamazaki wanted to see that confused look on his face, as he told Hanamiya that he and Hara would have to pay for their meal.

However, the only reaction which he'd gotten had been Hara's, who rather than confused, looked angry. Despite being a successful musician and owning a breathtaking fortune, Hara still hated paying for things. Especially if he had to pay because of a bet he had no idea of.

-And why the fuck are you complaining!? - Yamazaki growled back at Hara, frowning as the rest of his features shifted, nearly punching the table. - At least you two have money. I have to survive with barely 80.000 yen every month, you ass!

-Hey, cool down, Yama - Hanamiya slightly rose his tone so the redhead could hear him, scowling at him. - I don't mind paying, unlike some people.

-Whoa, Hana-chan's already throwing salt all over the table! - Hara didn't notice that he'd already been served.

Obviously, they were the ones to stand out the most. Not because Hara and Hanamiya were, at this point, worldwide famous, but because of their behavior, which seemingly resembled that of a teenagers'. Seto and Furuhashi were the ones keeping their cool. Hanamiya tried as well, but witnessing Hara and Yamazaki's poor manners was laughable and annyoning at the same time. He wanted to scold them, so they stopped attracting both customers and the waiters' attention, but for some reason, he chose to let them be.

Somehow, Hanamiya didn't want to ruin that goofy, even irksome atmosphere which they'd created. Even if Yamazaki was the most annoying man to exist, and Hara couldn't shut up once he began talking. It was like revisiting old times, during which Hanamiya's only concern was that his schemes against rival teams could fail, instead of having to run from the press.

As Hanamiya sent a text to his mother, Furuhashi ran his hand down his arm, patting his shoulder, seemingly comforting him. But he didn't have an answer, as upon witnessing Hanamiya's tender smile, Furuhashi knew that he was having a good time. Perhaps the best time which he'd had in those five years. After they gazed at each other for a moment, with olive eyes against void ones, Furuhashi left a small kiss on Hanamiya's head, having the man draw a smile afterwards. Hara peeked at them from the side with a childish grin; Hanamiya would probably scold him later, once they left.

-Anyway, Kazuya - Seto spoke from the westernmost side of the table, hoping that his voice would reach him -, exactly why're you complaining about payment? Right now, you have even more fortune than I do.

-Don't mind him, Kentaro - Hanamiya replied, splitting his chopsticks. - He's just being stingy.

-Al-fucking-right - Hara sighed, having Seto smirk at his reply -, I'll pay for the goddamn meal too. Let's hope it won't be too much.

-And why are you suddenly worrying about money, Kazuya? Apparently you spent about 20.000 yen in a bunch of drumsticks - he chuckled. - If you can spend that much in some sticks, then you shouldn't be worrying about a cheap restaurant like this one.

Hara sighed. It would sure be a long meal.

···

After a lengthy, fulfilling meal, filled with drawn-out conversations and more complaints by Hara's side, it was finally time to say goodbye. The evening's tangerine-dyed sky would soon fall upon them, dying all the streets in golden tones and turning each tree into a lifeless silhouette as the Sun rested on them. Despite them knowing that they would soon meet again, was it during shopping or just by accident, it still felt strange, even melancholic to say goodbye.

Hara wanted to hug them, to repress his inner tears. Yamazaki wanted to pat everybody's backs and play another match, it being his way to bid farewell. Seto simply aimed for a short farewell, followed by a soft smile, and Furuhashi did as well. And Hanamiya wanted to sincerelly thank them all, despite not having recalled most of the things which they'd done together in the past.

Their farewell began with Hara dragging all of them in a long, heartwarming hug, him unaware of the tears which were falling down his face. It got worse when Hara recalled than the last time they met, nearly three months ago, Hanamiya had been on a comatose state. Hara didn't want to let them go, talking about how thankful he'd been to meet them and how much they'd helped him throughout high school and his life in general. Yamazaki found himself awkwardly patting Hara's head, trying to lift up his mood, who had suddenly gone from cheerful to nostalgic.

After Hara left, Yamazaki gave them a clumsy farewell, speaking about how much fun he'd had playing basketball together again, while constantly breaking eye contact. He didn't thank the men for anything in particular other than basketball and their high school years. Yamazaki also mentioned that he would love to play more matches, to which Hanamiya showed an annoyed look, claiming that he wanted to wait until his skills slightly improved for a rematch. In the end, Seto ended up comforting him, as Yamazaki was unable to hold back his tears throughout his entire farewell.

On Seto's farewell, he spoke about how he began respecting Hanamiya's intelligence after idolizing him for a good while, before joining the basketball team. He then thanked Hanamiya for having made his high school years less boring, all of this with a composed, slightly tense stance and half-closed eyes. However, his voice broke when he mentioned how much Hanamiya's condition had improved over those three months. Even Seto himself, whom had often referred to as "the team's gentleman" and someone generally indifferent, hadn't been able to keep his nonchalance.

He also had lots of things to say, but Furuhashi, the one that had been closer to Hanamiya, went straight for a hug, embracing the smaller man with such strength it looked like he'd break one of his ribs. His high school crush still was there, and he remained quiet as he caressed Hanamiya's head. Chuckling, Hanamiya chose to hug him back, unable to keep his feelings to himself, just like he would usually do. Someone like him, who didn't usually respond to people's feelings, particularly if they were romantic, suddenly got over-emotional over what seemed to be a simple farewell between old friends. Hanamiya could even hear Furuhashi's heart beating against his as their hug tightened, patting his back as seconds went by.

After they broke apart, Furuhashi held Hanamiya's hand, who trembled for some reason, placing his cold fingers on its back. They looked at each other, and Furuhashi could've sworn that he'd never seen such a beautiful look on Hanamiya's face. Both their figures had been bathed with golden and tangerine colors, the Sun perfectly reflecting on Hanamiya's eyes as he showed a smile which Furuhashi would hardly forget.

Hanamiya lowered his head, then raised it back in order to make eye contact again, taking slow, deep breaths inbetween. For Furuhashi, it looked like he was about to cry; for Hanamiya himself, it was the truth.

-Kojiro - he beamed, as a tear fell down one of his eyes, unable to keep his feels from blooming -, let's meet again.

-Of course - Furuhashi replied, closing his eyes, still holding back his tears.

···

Four months had now passed since that meeting, and one since they'd last met. Hanamiya still could recall it as if it had happened yesterday, when he'd turned 25 years old. Throughout those months, he'd recalled a few things, but his old high school's name hadn't been one of them. He still had to deal with slight direction issues, particularly when he went to the ward's store that day.

He ended up at a music store, witnessing Hara's band's newly-released album as its songs played rather loudly in the background. Hanamiya had been lucky that day, as he was one of the few people to shop at that store that particular day; he enjoyed not having to deal with long queues and people overall. He also hadn't bothered to disguise himself at all, as he was already used to people pointing out his presence in public spaces.

Sighing, he grabbed the CD in front of him. Its cover was simple, it being someone's silhouette, most likely Hara's, with "survivor" written on its lower right. Hanamiya knew for a fact that Hara had dedicated some songs to him and the rest of them, as he'd mentioned it during their last meeting. Unexpectedly, the song that currently played on that store was one which Hara had dedicated to his former teammates, which Hara sang himself.

Hanamiya had to admit that he was quite talented at singing.

-I really can't believe I'm doing this - he angrily muttered to himself as he stepped towards the clerk. Deep inside, he'd been waiting to buy that album.

As he waited for the clerk to attend him, Hanamiya tried to focus on that song's lyrics. And, aside from finding out that Hara was a more talented singer than he'd initially thought, he noticed that it wasn't just a song about his former teammates. On that song, Hara sang about how thankful he'd been to meet them, and how they'd always been there for him.

It also was really catchy, and Hanamiya eventually found himself unconsciously humming it as he grabbed his wallet from his pocket.

Really, none of them was truly certain of how much Hanamiya loved them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to thank each and every person who has read, left kudos and comments, or simply enjoyed this fic. I'm just really glad you did, because, even if you don't think so, it helped a lot!
> 
> Now, this fic took a while to write, given the obvious hiatuses and the difficulty overall. As you may have noticed, this chapter is poorly edited, like the previous ones, either because I was really lazy to edit a few mistakes or just couldn't bring myself to. There's also the obvious difference between the first chapters and the later ones; and yes, I'm gonna leave them like that. This fic is a proof that my writing skills can improve if I simply try my best.
> 
> ...Gee, what am I doing? As I've mentioned before, it's nearly three in the morning when I'm posting this. And, once again, I'd love to thank every single person who has read and liked this fic, even if you hadn't left any comments. You guys are wonderful!
> 
> Also, don't you think this will be my last Long Fic. Maybe I'll stay in the basketball fandom forever, or maybe I'll move on into another fandoms, but this won't be my last fic. At least, for now.
> 
> Feel free to drop any comments or critique!


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